


Circles

by stellarmeadow



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode Related, Episode Tag, M/M, episode 601, episode 602, episode 603, episode 604, episode 605, episode 606, episode 607, episode 608, episode 609, episode 610, episode 611, episode 612, episode 613, episode 614, episode 615, episode 616, episode 617, episode 618, episode 619, episode 620, episode 621, episode 622, episode 623, episode 624, episode 625
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-23 22:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 51,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4894834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarmeadow/pseuds/stellarmeadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of codas woven throughout the episodes in Season 6.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I swore I wasn't doing this again this year. I swore it. 
> 
> Clearly I need my head examined. 
> 
> But I hope you guys like it!

"You want a beer?" Steve asked, as he pulled into the drive in front of his house. 

"Sure." Danny got out of the car, the same silence that had accompanied the drive following them into the house. Danny couldn't get the image of Kono, bloody and bruised, out of his head. Not that it was the first time, but the attack, so brutal, and on her honeymoon....

At least Adam made it through surgery.

Steve didn't bother to turn on the lights as he grabbed beers from the fridge. Danny took his and followed Steve out to the beach behind the house. The moon was bright enough to see the chairs, the light dancing on the small waves in the ocean. 

As expected, Steve didn't say a word. When they'd first met, Danny had put his silence down to stoic SEAL-face, something they'd done to him in the Navy having cut off all emotions. 

Now he knew better. 

"Kono did good today," Danny said. 

He turned his head in time to see Steve nod before taking a long drink. "Didn't stop her from nearly losing her new husband, though," Steve said after a moment. 

"Due to his own illegal activities," Danny reminded Steve. "Not her fault."

"I know."

"And there was nothing you could have done to help."

"I know."

But Danny knew that all the knowledge in the world didn't stop Steve from feeling like it was his responsibility to take care of his family. He hadn't invited Danny in for his conversation skills; he'd done it because one of theirs had been hurt, and Danny was the only one he could keep close and protect for a while. 

However much Steve liked to claim he valued the sanctity of his home, Danny knew he'd have their whole team and their extended families living under his roof if it didn't conflict so much with the McGarrett House Rules. 

Not that he didn't trust them or believe in their abilities. He just somehow thought it was his job to make sure they were okay. Maybe that was the real reason he struggled with Catherine's decision to stay in Afghanistan--he couldn't protect her from Hawaii. Maybe if he married her, she'd be safe, right?

Or maybe he was sitting there, right now, convincing himself that he shouldn't, just because of what happened to Adam. 

"You know," Danny said, thumb running over the label on his beer bottle, feeling the condensation where it was starting to wrinkle the paper, "when Rachel and I first got married, I used to worry that something would happen to her. Someone would go after her to get to me, or she'd get caught up in the crossfire from a case, like you see on TV."

Steve didn't respond, he just watched the waves. 

"But nothing happened," Danny said finally. "And only after we moved out here, after she'd married someone else, did she get put in danger, and it was by her new husband just trying to do the right thing."

He left out Rick Peterson and what he'd done to Danny's family, because It didn't make his point. And he knew Steve wasn't enough of a dick to bring it up. "My old Captain back in Jersey had a saying," Danny continued. "I never worry about getting on a plane because if it's supposed to kill me, it'll fall on my head."

That actually got a half snort out of Steve. "Did one ever fall on him?" Steve asked.

"Nope. He's still keeping the precinct in order to this day."

Steve took a long breath and let it out slowly. "Catherine put her life on the line every day in the Navy," Steve said, the words careful, his eyes on Danny now. "And I brought her into Five-0. I'm not worried about the job killing her."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Why do you think there's a problem?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Because you're sitting here staring at the ocean like you did for months after she left instead of watching the road for her to get home." Which wasn't a perfect analogy--Steve wasn't really the watch the road kind of guy--but it got the point across.

Steve looked like he was going to speak a couple of times before he finally did. "What if she says no?" he said finally, eyes back on the waves. 

_Then at least you know._ It was on the tip of Danny's tongue, but he couldn't say it. Because whether her answer was yes or no, it was an answer Steve needed to hear, should have heard a year ago. He'd moped around in limbo for a year, and if proposing was the only way that Steve could find to get past the giant Catherine-shaped roadblock in his life, then yes or no didn't matter. Only the fact that at least there was an answer did. 

Even hinting that it might be a possibility was giving Steve an out, though. "She came back," Danny said.

"For Kono's wedding." 

"And she stayed in your house," Danny said. "That should tell you something."

"Cheaper than a hotel?" Steve said with a shrug. 

Danny studied him for a moment before deciding to risk the question. "Why did you decide to propose?"

"Because I should've done it a long time ago."

"Then why do you think she might say no?"

Steve huffed something that was almost a laugh. "Because I should've done it a long time ago," he said, looking at Danny. "What if I missed my window?"

There was no other answer for it. "Then at least you'll know."

After a long moment, Steve nodded. "Exactly."

"This isn't you changing your mind, right?"

Steve shook his head. "You said it yourself. At least I'll know."

Which wasn't the best way to go into a marriage proposal. Then again, neither of them was in the most optimistic of moods after the day they'd had. 

Tomorrow it would be fine. Steve would get a ring, he'd get on a knee, and Catherine would say yes. That's how it had to go, because more than anything, the world--no, the universe--owed Steve McGarrett a happy ending. And he deserved every bit of it. 

So there.

***


	2. Chapter 2

Danny got out of the car, looking around at the chaos on the scene. He knew what he was walking into, had seen worse, no matter how much he tried to forget, but it never stopped being like a punch to the gut. 

He saw the Silverado pull up and turned to see Steve and Catherine get out. Danny's glance at Catherine's left hand was automatic at this point, but still no sign of a ring. They'd clearly come straight from Steve's, so she was clearly still living there, so Danny was having trouble seeing the problem.

Except that Steve--hard as nails Navy SEAL Steve--was kind of a wuss when it came to things like this. It was like Steve not talking to his mother about her lies all over again. What was he planning next--hiring someone to propose to Catherine for him, like he hired someone to follow Doris?

He had no problem with them acting like the last year had never happened, like she'd never left. He had no problem with Steve forgiving her for leaving him high and dry in the hands of the Taliban, and then just not coming back and leaving him hanging.

Okay, maybe he had a small problem. 

But if she made Steve happy, then he'd swallow that problem whole and not even choke on it. Because Steve deserved happiness, and if Danny did nothing else, he'd move mountains to make sure that he did everything in his power to make sure Steve got it. 

Now he just had to figure out how to get Steve to pop the question.

***

It didn't take all that long for Danny to realize, not for the first time, that this was going to be an uphill battle if Steve couldn't even stand up to Jerry.

"It's just an office, Danny."

"That's like your girlfriend saying it's just a toothbrush. Next thing you know, you're out closet space, okay, and all your stuff's been moved to the attic, including your sports memorabilia, and your garage is turned into an arts and crafts studio." Not to mention she leaves you kidnapped in Afghanistan. 

"How did Rachel ever say yes to you?"

 _Because I had the balls to actually ask her?_ But saying that wouldn't be helpful, so he stuck with, "Wow."

"Huh?"

Seriously, the guy really was the Neanderthal Danny always accused him of being. "Okay. This is all I am saying, all right? If you encourage Jerry, he is going to expect something. What? A badge." _Not unlike a woman you let live in your house expects things...._

"He's not getting a badge. He's just getting an office."

"Well, an office creates expectation for a badge." 

"He's gonna be disappointed."

"Yeah, he'll be disappointed, he'll be disappointed for about five minutes, until he pouts and then you cave, because you are spineless, and you give him a badge." Because of course, this would be the area where Steve just _can't_ resist giving out shiny pieces of metal. Unlike wedding proposals. 

"I'm not gonna cave." 

_Yeah, right._ Danny thought, as he resigned himself to years of having to get Jerry out of trouble when he abused his Five-0 badge. But maybe this could be an opportunity. "Speaking of caving, what happened? You just bailed on the proposal?"

Steve's face was comical. "No, I didn't bail. I've been planning the op."

And thinking of it like that would almost ensure it would fail. "The op?"

"Yeah. I secured a ring, I reconned a location, now I just gotta execute."

"Wow." Danny shook his head, even if he wasn't entirely surprised. " I mean, it just, it sounds so romantic, the way you say it, y'know? I mean, I can see it now. You and Catherine in matching camouflage cargo pants on some very exotic shooting range, and you get down on one knee and you say, 'Babe, I want you to join my unit for a lifelong mission.' I mean, it's every girl's fairy tale." Though it wasn't hard to imagine someone who had a thing for Steve actually finding that cute, and being totally unsurprised that it was his idea of romance.

"You wanna hear a secret?" Steve asked.

Only if it was that this marriage proposal thing was over. "Yeah."

"You do?"

Danny nodded. "Mmhmm."

"Sometimes when you speak, when your mouth opens and you speak, all I hear is 'wah wah wah wah.' It's like I'm in a Charlie Brown cartoon, only you're Linus with better hair."

Asshole. "Why do I gotta be Linus?" Danny asked, because he knew by now that was the best way to annoy Steve in this mood.

"That's your takeaway? Really? That's your takeaway from that?"

Steve was saved from Danny's biting reply by the sight of the barbeque place's logo out of the corner of Danny's eye. 

***

Danny shoved Duclair into the back of a cruiser and straightened, slamming the door a little harder than necessary. He watched the car drive away before looking around. He'd expected to see Steve close by, or even for him to show up with some kind of witty line, but there was no sign of him anywhere.

"Hey, Kelekolio," Danny said, recognizing a uniformed guy nearby. "You see where McGarrett went?"

"He took a couple of other guys to get the mail," Kelekolio said.

"What?"

Kelekolio shrugged. "He came out of the restaurant with a key and said, 'you two, with me, we have to go get the mail.' And they left."

For a brief second, Danny wondered if Kelekolio had misunderstood. And then he remembered Richards' post office box, the one Trout used to send his letters. 

Fuck.

***

Danny got out of his car at the perimeter around the post office. He didn't quite make it to the tape before he saw Steve striding towards them, a jar in his hand. By the time Steve ducked under the tape, Danny had figured out the contents of the jar--you never really forget what cremains look like once you see them.

Steve reached Danny at last, who nodded at the jar. "Trout?" Danny asked.

Steve nodded as he handed the jar off to an officer. 

"Duclair tell you that?" Danny asked.

"Yeah." Steve watched the officer walk away, holding the jar out a little as if it might blow up on him. "Gave me the key when I asked him where Trout was."

Danny was speechless for a few seconds. "You realize," he said finally, the words slow at first, so that maybe they might penetrate that thick skull inside Steve's head, "that the chances that thing was rigged to blow were astronomical, right? I mean, do you get the risk you took, Steve? Does that even occur to you? Or do you just go blundering in assuming your Captain America exoskeleton will save your ass?"

"Danny, I knew it wasn't rigged."

"How?" Danny asked, waving a hand around. "I don't see the bomb squad here anywhere, so they didn't tell you. Do you have x-ray vision, Steve? Because that would have been a very helpful thing to divulge, to let me know that was one of your super powers before you started doing things like opening up post office boxes that might have explosives attached!"

"I knew it wasn't wired," Steve said again. "I would never have opened it if I thought otherwise."

"You're not psychic," Danny ground out, "nor are you a member of the bomb squad, and last time I checked, you did not _actually_ have x-ray vision!" 

Danny took a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair, all the while cataloging every part of Steve's body to ensure that he really was in one piece. "And getting yourself blown up," Danny added, voice quieter, looking around to make sure they weren't overheard, "is a hell of a thing to do just to get out of a proposal."

"Danny, I swear to God--"

He was cut off by Catherine's appearance. "What happened?" she asked, looking between Steve and Danny. "I heard the call on the police radio."

"I'll let The Amazing Kreskin here fill you in," Danny said, walking off. He watched the two of them talk, a foot apart, and for the first time let him ask himself the question he'd been pretending didn't exist.

Did Steve really even want to get married in the first place?

***


	3. Chapter 3

Steve watched as the SUV carried Catherine away. When it was gone, he went inside, the ring still in his hand. He put the ring in a drawer in the desk--he'd have to take it back to the jewelry store, but he didn't want to think about it yet. 

He went upstairs and stripped the bed completely, sheets, covers and all. Once the sheets were in the washer, he put new ones on the bed. That done, he cleaned the bathroom, tossing anything unnecessary--the shampoo Catherine had left behind wouldn't get used anyway. 

The bathroom clean, he took the small trash bag from it downstairs and put it in a larger one, cleaning out the refrigerator into the bag as well. No use in wasting a trash bag, and the leftovers needed to go anyway. 

The sun was low in the sky by the time he finished cleaning up the kitchen. The rest of the house was clean enough, so he got out his guns and laid them in a row on the dining room table, his cleaning kit spread out in front of him. 

He heard his phone buzzing in the living room, and unbidden, Catherine's words came back to him. 

_When your phone rings, someone needs you._

Yeah, well, let them need someone else this time. He was busy.

The phone continued to buzz with annoying regularity as Steve cleaned one gun at a time. He ignored it, tuning out the sound as he worked. By the time he was on the last gun, the sunlight was practically gone, but he didn't bother to get up and turn on the lights. He could clean guns in total darkness if he had to. 

He was just finishing reassembling the last gun when the front door opened. He didn't have to look to know who it was, but Danny's voice calling his name confirmed it.

Steve cleared his throat. "In here."

Danny stepped into the dining room, eyes scanning everything, just enough moonlight now for him to get the idea. "I've been calling you for over an hour," Danny said. "You don't pick up your phone anymore?"

"I didn't hear it ring."

Even in the faint light he could tell Danny knew it was a lie. "Right," Danny said, "because your super SEAL hearing sucks."

"We got a case?" Steve asked.

"We got called, yeah, but Chin and Kono took it." Danny crossed the room, stopping a few steps from Steve's seat. "You forget to pay the electric bill?"

Steve shook his head. "I was busy and didn't notice how dark it had gotten."

Danny nodded as if that was perfectly logical. "Steve--"

"We should go help Chin and Kono," Steve said, pushing back the chair and getting up. 

"Lou's on standby if they need him," Danny said. "I think we've got enough to deal with here."

Steve pushed past him towards the living room. "There's nothing to deal with here."

"The funny thing is I think you really expect me to leave it at that," Danny said. "Even after all this time."

Steve turned around in the middle of the living room to find Danny just a few steps behind him. "I don't know what you think there is to deal with, Danny, but--"

"Okay, let me stop you right there, and you can pretend like we played ten minutes of the McGarrett evasion game before you gave up, all right? Because I can tell what happened, okay? I don't need you to tell me Catherine left."

Steve swallowed carefully. "Then you don't need me to tell you I'd rather be alone right now."

"Nope, and I don't need anyone to tell me that that's the worst thing you can do."

"Danny, I don't want--"

"I don't care what you want, Steven. I care what you need. And you are a terrible judge of that, my friend, I am here to tell you that as someone who knows you. You have no idea what you need anywhere outside of the job. So sit down on that couch and I am going to give you what you need."

That didn't sound good. "What is it you think I need?"

"You want to find out, you'll sit down on the couch."

"And if I don't?"

Danny's look was more at home when he was telling a suspect they were going to confess or else. "Then I'll make you sit down and give it to you anyway."

Steve studied him for a long moment before he sat down.

"Good," Danny said. "Don't move."

He walked out into the kitchen and came back a minute later with a full bottle of whiskey and two large tumblers. "The only thing to do on a night like this," Danny said, "is get drunk."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Ah ah ah," Danny said as he sat down next to Steve. "We have already established that you have no idea what you need."

"I don't think we established it so much as you decreed it," Steve said. At Danny's look, Steve held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. Alcohol it is."

Danny's smile was bright in the moonlight, and only then did Steve realize they still hadn't turned the lights on. It seemed fitting somehow, though, so he didn't mention it. Danny poured a generous portion of alcohol into Steve's glass and handed it over before pouring just as much into his own. 

Steve sipped at the whiskey, eyes darting around the room, half afraid if he lands them on Danny too long he'll make him talk by sheer force of will. 

"Sipping is not going to do you any good, Steven." At Steve's glare, Danny sighs. "Okay, fine, let's play a game then."

"What game?"

Danny raised his glass as if to give a toast and said, "Truth or dare?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Truth or dare?"

"Danny, this is--"

"Truth. Or. Dare."

Steve sighed. He knew that tone far too well, and he knew he wasn't getting out of this. Might as well get it over with. 

"Okay, fine," Steve said. "Truth."

***

Bright pinpricks of light were like needles against Steve's eyelids. He opened his eyes, hoping to stop the pain, but the sunlight streaming into them made his stomach flip over. 

God, he hated hangovers.

He blinked his eyes open cautiously again. It still hurt like hell, but he didn't think he was in danger of losing his...well, whatever was in his stomach after all that alcohol and no dinner. He looked around the room, frowning as he realized the bed looked like it had been slept in on both sides. 

He took a deep breath, recognizing Danny's scent easily after years of sitting so close to him in the car. Okay, so Danny had crashed in his room instead of on the couch. Not like the first time they'd fallen asleep together. Danny usually liked the couch, because it let him have the TV on, but he'd gotten better about that lately. 

Steve tried to reconstruct the night in his head. He remembered the whisky, and Danny challenging him to truth or dare. He also remembered spilling an increasing amount of truth as the whiskey bottle had gotten emptier, far more truth than he'd have given up sober. Which was probably Danny's intent all along. 

His memory more or less stopped partway through the game, though, right after taking a dare to finish the rest of his glass in one go. The only things after that are vague flashes--more like light and dark, colors and smells than any actual memory. He didn't have another clear memory until he'd woken up a few minutes ago.

Clearly at some point he'd come up to bed. And Danny had come with him. 

It didn't say much for his hangover brain that he didn't realize until he pulled the covers back that he was naked. 

So he'd been naked. And in bed with Danny. 

Okay....

He needed aspirin and caffeine, a lot of caffeine, before he thought any further. 

He got up, almost tripping over his clothes in a little pile beside the bed. His wet clothes, he realized, picking them up to find they stunk of whiskey. 

Well that explained the nakedness--he'd ditched the clothes, clearly, and been so stumbling drunk he hadn't bothered to find anything else to sleep in. Wasn't as if he wasn't used to being nude around other guys. 

He picked up the clothes to put them in the hamper, but his underwear fell out. No, he realized, as he picked them back up and saw the label, not his underwear. He didn't wear Fruit of the Loom. 

Danny, however, had described himself in one of the more odd conversations they'd had, as an All-American Fruit of the Loom wearer. 

So Danny's underwear was mixed up in Steve's clothes, and Danny--and the rest of his clothes, and presumably the Calvin Klein underwear that Danny had mocked--was nowhere to be found. 

_What the hell happened last night?_

***


	4. Chapter 4

_The slide of skin on skin is electric, and Steve doesn't know what's better, sex itself, or this kind of contact with another human being, the rare feeling of not being alone._

_His hand dips lower, the feel of so much hair over skin so different, but good, so good, that he thinks it might just be addictive. Lower and lower, searching through the mass of hair now to find something to hold, to grip, something to drive Danny crazy--_

Steve jerked awake, scrubbing a hand over his face before he looked around, the empty bed almost a surprise. The clock was another surprise - 6 a.m. Two whole hours of uninterrupted sleep was the longest he's managed in days. 

Since Catherine left.

Since he and Danny did...whatever they did on That Night, as he'd taken to thinking of it. 

It was hard to sleep when your subconscious started throwing things at you the moment you nodded off. Combinations of memories and flashes of something else that might be a memory or might just be a dream, the deepest realms of his brain showing him things he'd never even known lurked there.

And then there was Danny.

Danny, who hadn't said a word about That Night, who had acted like nothing had changed, like his underwear hadn't been tangled up in Steve's clothes. Like Steve's bed didn't still smell faintly of Danny.

Like he hadn't left a toothbrush sitting on Steve's sink.

Steve hadn't missed it that first morning. He'd cleaned the bathroom thoroughly the night before, and the toothbrush was one of the pack of spares he kept for guests. It was also still wet and sitting in the cup, right next to Steve's, like a challenge or something, he still wasn't sure.

Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe Danny had still been half drunk or half asleep when he left, and had thrown it in the cup on automatic pilot. 

Whatever it was supposed to mean, it was mostly a reminder that Steve had managed to fuck up in every way possible. Catherine had left, and whatever he and Danny had done, Danny clearly didn't want to talk about. 

He was grateful for that, in a way. Grateful that Danny didn't want to cut him out of his life after That Night, didn't want to change the way they were together. He didn't want to think about losing Danny, not now, not after....

Enough thinking. Time to get up. He sat on the side of the bed, mentally working on waking himself up and not thinking about everything that had happened in this room, or things that might have happened, or maybe he wished had. 

Was everyone's life this complicated, or was he just particularly gifted at fucking his up?

He looked at the toothbrush again. 

_No. Not thinking. Not anymore._

Only shutting down that part of his brain would get him through the day, through visiting Danny and making sure he was recovering from the transplant, that Charlie was doing well, and that things were fine. 

Everything was fine. Everything would be fine. 

Steve looked at the bathroom for a long moment before picking up his clothes and going to use the guest bathroom down the hall.

***

Steve didn't look back as Grover left. He didn't need Freud--or Grover--to explain Steve's need to see Danny for himself, make sure that he was okay, that he was still there.

That he hadn't been taken away, too.

Charlie's room was next to Danny's. Steve stopped there first, watching for a moment as Charlie slept. He looked better--or so Steve thought anyway. Pale, tired, but better. 

He moved on to Danny's room to find Danny sleeping as well. Steve was quiet, watching Danny sleep for a minute, so much like Charlie that he wondered how none of them ever saw it before Rachel dropped her bombshell. 

So much time that Danny had lost with his son, and now here he was, fighting to make sure he had time to make it up to him. As if it was Danny's fault that Rachel didn't tell him. As if it was Danny's fault that he didn't go with Rachel to New Jersey back then. No, that was on Steve. 

He wondered sometimes how Danny didn't hate him. 

Danny stirred, something in the way he moved around as he woke up starting those flashes back in Steve's mind again. Steve shut the lid tight on them, putting on a smile as Danny opened his eyes. 

"Hey," Danny said, his voice threatening to unlock that box of memories or dreams or whatever again. "What time is it?"

"Just after ten."

Danny stretched, and Steve glanced down at the bag in his lap to avoid watching too closely and stirring up his subconscious. 

"What's that?" Danny asked.

Steve looked up to see Danny nodding at the bag. "Eggplant parmesan," Steve said. "I brought you lunch."

"See, now, while I am happy that you thought to bring me something to replace the hospital food," Danny said, "I think the gesture is tarnished by the fact that you are trying, once again, to make me eat vegetables on Italian food."

"Pineapple is a fruit, Danny."

"Fruits, vegetables, whatever--the point is, they do not belong on Italian food. It's like you remember nothing about me."

Steve frowned, wondering if that was a dig about That Night. "Grover had it in the car for you when he picked me up," Steve said, pleased that his voice sounded normal.

"Oh, so now it's Grover who brought me lunch?" Danny looked around. "If he's to blame, where is he?"

"We got called out on a case," Steve said. "He took it so I could come check in on you."

Danny's smile put Steve's unease about the 'remember' comment to rest. "You skipped the chance to shoot something just to come visit me?" Danny said. "I'm touched. Really."

"Somebody has to make sure you're not driving the nurses crazy."

"Hey, that is not me, my friend, that is you. You are the single worst patient that hospitals--wait. If Grover picked you up, and he took off, how are you getting home?"

Steve shrugged. "I guess you're stuck with me."

Something passed over Danny's face, unreadable, which made it that much more unsettling, since Steve had made a study of Danny's faces. "I guess I am," Danny said softly, "since you can't just sneak off if I fall asleep."

The tone as much as that look again had Steve wondering if that was another reference to That Night. He had to stop doing that, or he'd go crazy looking for double meanings in everything Danny said. 

Right, he'd get his brain to stop doing that as soon as he figured out how to get it to stop remembering snippets of things that may or may not have even happened.

"So." Danny cleared his throat. "How you doing?" 

"I'm not the one in a hospital bed."

That look he knew. That was Danny's 'don't bullshit me' look. Steve knew it far too well."Steven."

"I'm fine, Danny." At the stronger version of that look, Steve sighed. "I'm a little banged up," he said, "but it's not like it hasn't happened before." _And before that, and before that...._ "I'll be fine."

He could tell Danny was gearing up for something serious, something Steve probably didn't want to hear. "Look, if you--"

"How are we feeling today, Mr. Williams?" the nurse, a guy Steve had seen several times in the past few days, said as he walked into the room, a cheery smile on his face.

Steve listened as Danny traded banter with the nurse, feeling irrationally irritated by the easy back and forth between them. He watched as the nurse checked Danny's chart and his vitals, writing everything down carefully. 

It was probably Steve's imagination that the nurse's hand lingered longer on Danny's wrist to get his pulse than was really necessary. 

"Hey, McGarrett," the nurse said, pulling Steve out of his own head, "who shot your puppy?"

Steve blinked. "What?"

"He means you look like a perp just stole your gun," Danny supplied helpfully.

Steve tried to school his face into something less...well, whatever it was that had them saying that. "Sorry, just thinking about a case," he said quickly, because, 'Sorry, I just want your hands off my partner before I break your fingers,' really wasn't a great response right now. Or, well, ever.

"Glad I'm not your suspect!" the nurse said with that same cheery tone that made Steve have to work to keep his face as blank as possible. "You're doing good, Mr. Williams," he said as he rounded the bed towards the door. "But I can smell that eggplant parm in that bag your friend has, and don't think I won't know if you eat it."

"Trust me, Mark," Danny said, "I will not be eating one single bite."

"Good. I'll check back in a little later," he said as he walked out. 

Danny studied Steve for a long moment, until Steve finally said, "What?"

"I don't know," Danny replied. "You tell me."

"You make no sense."

"No," Danny said, "making no sense is your thing."

"Uh, no, I think if you ask anyone, they'll tell you it's yours."

Danny studied him again. "Steve--"

"I'm fine, Danny. Or I will be."

"Steven--"

"Can we just...." Steve sighed. "Can we please not talk about it right now? Just--let me handle it."

After a long look that said this was most definitely not over, Danny nodded. "For now," he said, in case that look hadn't been enough.

"Thank you."

***

Steve's phone rang as he and Kono were on their way to find Hirsch, Danny's face grinning up from the screen. Steve took the call on the handset, disconnecting it from the truck's bluetooth system. "You miss me already?"

"Haha. Funny. Did you take my car keys?"

"What?"

"Did you take my keys?" Danny said. "I just asked Mark to make sure you hadn't walked off with them, and he checked my stuff, and they're not in the bag with everything else." 

Steve moved the phone to his other ear as he swerved around a car. "No, Danny, I did not take your keys," Steve said, not at all annoyed that Mark was back in there. Again. He was Danny's nurse--where else was he supposed to be? "You told me to leave the Camaro where it was. I left the Camaro where it was, as ordered." 

"Right, because you're so good at taking orders. You'd better not be driving my car." 

"Kono," Steve said, looking over at her in the passenger seat, "what are we riding in right now?"

He held out the phone, and Kono said, "Steve's truck," with a look that said Steve was going to be getting teased for at least the rest of the day. Possibly the rest of the month. 

He put the phone back up to his ear. "Happy now?"

"No, but I would be if I knew where my keys were."

"You made me put them in your pocket of your pants, which are hanging up in the closet of your hospital room."

"Oh, right," Danny said, not sounding the least bit sorry about accusing Steve. "At least one of us remembered."

Steve did his best to ignore the part of his brain that immediately suggested that was another dig about That Night. "Yes, so now that you know where your keys are, can I go back to work?"

"As long as it's not in my car."

Steve shook his head. "Goodbye, Daniel."

He hung up and looked at Kono. "Not a word," he said, as she opened her mouth.

She may not have said anything, but with that look on her face, she didn't have to. 

***

Steve's phone beeped as he and Kono left the lawyer's office, and at a look at the reminder, he dialed the number for Danny's room. "Hey," he said, as soon as Danny answered, "did you need me to pick up Grace?"

"No, Rachel's going to get her today. I told you this morning, remember?"

"Right, sorry. I forgot."

Danny's quiet snicker was unsettling. _Not thinking about it. Not thinking about it._ "Go back to work, " Danny said. 

"Yes, sir." 

He hung up the phone and studiously avoided looking at Kono as they got into the truck.

***

Steve and Kono were halfway back to HQ, the painting securely stored behind Steve's seat, when his phone rang. He picked up the call on the handset. "Hey."

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I told you I don't have your car."

"Forget the car - you felt the need to play a real life version of Frogger on a busy highway, Steven?"

 _How the hell...._ "What did you do, install a camera on my tac vest?"

"No, because we'd spend all our time in court with lawsuits if there was video record of your antics," Danny said. "Grover texted me."

Steve had long ago given up on trying to stop the rest of his team from informing on him. Danny always found out anyway. "It was nothing, Danny."

"Almost getting killed five times by speeding vehicles is not nothing, Steven."

"Grover exaggerated. Besides, that painting is the only thing keeping a girl alive. What was I supposed to do, Danny, huh?"

There was a few seconds of silence before Danny said, "Fine. But if you get yourself killed, I'm bringing you back to life just to shoot you myself."

"Well thank you for worrying," Steve said. "Can I go find the girl now?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. Goodbye." 

Steve hung up the phone, eyes straight ahead on the road. 

"You know," Kono said, after a moment, "Adam never calls and yells at me for doing my job."

Steve spared her a glance. "Adam would be afraid to yell at you."

She thought about it for a second, then shrugged.

***

Steve punched in the number for Danny's room while he waited for Kono to get in the truck. "Hey," Steve said, when Danny answered, "we just wrapped up the case and I thought I'd stop by. You want me to bring you anything?"

"No eggplant parmesan, please."

Steve laughed as Kono climbed into the truck and closed the door. "Pizza?" Steve said. "JJs?"

"You are a god among men and I forgive you for everything you've done today if you manage to get that in here without getting busted."

"I think I can manage it," Steve said. He'd find a way. 

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. See you soon."

He hung up and tucked his phone away before starting the truck and pulling off. "So," Kono said, "we making a stop?"

He thought about it for a second. He could go after he dropped her at HQ, but it would be faster to stop first, since JJ's was on the way. "Just a quick one - you mind?"

She shook her head. "I wouldn't dream of keeping you from getting Danny his pizza."

He ignored her teasing tone as he sped up.

***

As he walked up to Danny's room, Steve could hear voices. As he turned the corner, he saw the doctor standing by Danny's bed. 

Steve stopped just inside the door, looking from Danny to the doctor. "Everything okay?" 

"The doc here was just telling me that Charlie and I are both doing great," Danny said with a smile. "Should go home in a couple days."

"That's great news," Steve said, apprehension bleeding out one breath at a time. "Glad to hear it."

Danny's eyes had that brightness to them that Steve had missed the last few days, something about it both warming and unsettling at the same time. "You're just glad you'll get to drive my car again," Danny said.

"Well, there is that."

"I was just checking in before I left for the night," the doctor said. He glanced at the pizza box in Steve's hands. "I didn't realize Five-0 made deliveries."

"I, uh...." He'd told Danny he'd sneak the pizza in, but when he'd seen the doctor there so late, he'd forgotten all about hiding it.

The doctor smiled. "I don't think a few slices of pizza is going to hurt Mr. Williams' recovery, Commander."

"Oh, good." Steve put the pizza on the table by Danny's bed and swung it over Danny's lap. "Eat up, buddy."

The doctor laughed as he said goodnight and walked out.

Danny already had the pizza box open and was pulling out a slice. "You want some?" he asked Steve. 

"Sure."

They demolished the pizza while Steve told Danny about the case. When they were done, Steve cleaned the pizza stuff away and sat back down, already knowing what Danny was about to say before he opened his mouth.

"Steve--"

"Save it, Danny."

"I gave you days, Steven. You can't keep avoiding talking about her."

Steve sighed, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before opening them again. "I don't know what you want me to say, Danny. I told her to choose," he said, finally admitting it, the words catching just a little in his throat. "I told her to choose, and she left. Whatever she needs to feel...fulfilled, it's not me." He held up his hands. "What else is there to say?"

He could tell Danny had a whole world worth of words stored up about it, but it took him a long time to pick through and choose the ones he wanted. "It's not on you," Danny said finally, the words careful, like he was stepping through a field of landmines, "to make her feel fulfilled. That's never on another person. If she's not happy with herself, no one can do that for her."

"I get that."

"Do you?" Danny asked. "Because no matter how hard you try, you can't fix another person. And you can't make them ready for something that they're not ready for."

The words had a strange resonance to them, one that Steve couldn't quite understand. "I know that."

"Logically, yes," Danny agreed. "Whether or not you understand it...."

Steve cleared his throat and got up, wiping his palms on his pants. "I hate to go," he said softly, "but visiting hours are technically over, and I told Grover I'd meet him, so...."

Danny gave him a soft smile. "I need some sleep anyway," he said. "I want out of here."

"You need anything else?" 

Danny shook his head. "Nah. Get out of here. Tell Grover hi for me."

"Will do. I'll see you in the morning."

"Night."

"Night."

***

_No matter how hard you try, you can't fix another person. And you can't make them ready for something that they're not ready for._

Danny's words kept running through Steve's head as he drove to the Rumfire. The fact that there was a long list of people Danny could have been referring to should have been more amusing than it was. 

Everyone who's ever mattered to him had left. His mother, his father--well, his father sent him away, but same result--and Catherine. Even Mary spent as little time near him as possible, though at least she called once in a while. 

He wasn't enough to make anyone stay. Or maybe he was too much? Either way, how could that not be his fault?

Danny hadn't left, though, at least not yet. He'd had the chance--hell, he'd have had everything he ever wanted--Rachel back, his family, a son...but he'd chosen to stay and help Steve instead. If he hadn't, he might've known about Charlie all along, might have raised his son, if he hadn't stayed to help Steve. 

And then when he'd had the chance to move back to the mainland, with Grace, he'd stayed again. Fought for it, even. 

Steve had been lucky twice. He didn't want to do anything that would be the final straw to push Danny away. He was tired of people leaving. Just once, he wanted someone to stay.

_No matter how hard you try, you can't fix another person. And you can't make them ready for something that they're not ready for._

He understood now, or at least he thought he did. Time to forget That Night and move on. It was best for everyone.

***


	5. Chapter 5

Steve could hear Danny's voice coming from Charlie's hospital room as he rounded the corner. He paused at the door to listen as Danny explained he's going home, but he'll be back to visit every day.

"Can I go home?" Charlie asked.

"Sorry, pal, you have to stay here," Danny replied. "Who's gonna keep the nurses in line if you leave?"

Charlie's laugh reminded Steve a little of Grace. "You're funny, Danno."

"Well thank you," Danny said. "But I should probably get going and let you get some rest."

Steve heard Charlie's, "Bye, Danno," before Danny's footsteps drew closer. 

Danny stopped as he saw Steve standing outside the door. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Just got here," Steve said. "You ready?"

"Yeah," Danny said, lifting up the bag in his hand. "I'm all packed and everything."

"Great." Steve took the bag out of Danny's hand, ignoring the glare he got in return. "Let's go."

***

Steve spent more time focused on the road that was strictly necessary as he drove towards Danny's. They'd gone a mile when Danny said, "Something wrong?"

"No," Steve answered quickly, glancing in Danny's direction. "Why?"

"Because you haven't gone over the speed limit once since we left the hospital. I was starting to wonder if you were awake."

Steve shrugged, eyes back on the road. "You said you were sore. I was trying to take it easy."

The silence beside him almost reached uncomfortable levels before Danny said, "That's very kind of you, thank you."

His tone was close enough to their normal banter that Steve could ignore anything else that might be there. "You're welcome." 

"And thanks for driving me home," Danny said. 

Like he would do anything else for Danny, especially after he'd just given up bone marrow for his kid? "No thanks needed."

"Well, I'm sure you only did it because you wanted to drive my car, so...."

His tone was more normal, and Steve slipped back into their usual patterns. "So hey," he said, "did I tell you that we have your recuperation all planned out?"

"Why am I suddenly worried?"

"Nothing to worry about," Steve said, taking the right into Danny's neighborhood. "We're all going to do Tough Mudder."

"Do what now?"

Steve glanced at him. "Tough Mudder."

"Wait, is that the thing where you go through monkey bars and electroshock therapy covered in mud just to prove you're a man?" Danny asked. "No. No way in hell you are getting me near that thing."

***

"I hate you," Danny said as he dropped down into his own passenger seat. 

Steve gunned the engine and pulled out of his drive. "No, you don't."

"Yes, I do, I absolutely--" Danny had to pause for a yawn, "do. It's bad enough you talked me into this Mud thing, but being up before 6 am to run three miles is almost as stupid as--wait, no, I don't think there's anything more stupid than that."

"It's good for you," Steve said. 

Danny scoffed. "Tell that to my orthopedist when I'm back in there for my ACL."

"Danny, your shoes are specifically built to cushion your knee to avoid problems."

"Yeah, that'll do me a lot of good when I twist my knee stuck in the mud."

"That's not gonna happen," Steve said, to convince himself as much as Danny. It wasn't that he spent every moment worrying that something might happen to Danny, but he probably worried about it a little more than he should. Danny exercising more was good for Steve's peace of mind. "This will be good for you. You're not getting any younger--"

"Oh, well, thanks for that."

Steve rolled his eyes. "None of us are getting any younger, so we all need to stay fit to be a high-performing team." 

He knew the sound of Danny's sigh of capitulation. "Fine," Danny said, "but when I get hurt, you're carrying me across the finish line."

"Yeah, right, if I can even see you when you'll be so far behind me."

"I hate you."

***

Steve ran a towel over his head, staring at his own reflection in the foggy mirror. The run had gone well, and Danny hadn't keeled over or even seemed too tired after, which was a good sign.

Despite what Danny might've thought, Steve wouldn't have pushed him into this without knowing it was okay. He'd made sure with Danny's doctor that he wouldn't be doing any harm with this kind of training so soon after the transplant. Not that he ever wanted Danny to find out about that conversation. 

But even the doctor's assurances hadn't gotten rid of the last little bit of apprehension that something bad would happen. Steve hadn't even realized how much was there until they'd finished the run and Danny had been fine. 

Steve secured the towel around his waist, his eyes drifting down to the two toothbrushes by the sink. He couldn't bring himself to throw it out--Danny might see something in the gesture, and Steve didn't want him to think he was unwelcome, or that whatever may or may not have happened That Night had changed anything. 

His cell phone rang, a welcome distraction from thoughts he didn't want to have in the first place.

"McGarrett."

***

Despite all his taunting, Steve had no intention of leaving Danny--or any of his team--behind. They were running this race as a team, and they'd work together as a team. 

It might be a little extreme as team building exercises went--especially for a team that really didn't need any building--but it was who they were at their core. Team. Ohana. Five-0. The words were synonymous in Steve's book.

So he was right there when Danny fell. Despite the training, despite the doctor's assurances, Steve's heart stopped for a second as Danny went down and didn't get right back up. Steve was gripping Danny's arm to help him up even as Danny was uttering his first curse at the pain.

He shouldered Danny's weight, the feel of Danny's arm around his shoulder somehow comforting, even as Danny was cursing with every accidental brush with weight on or against his knee. So comforting, in fact, that he had trouble letting go when they finished. 

He had to let go, of course, especially when he was the one who insisted that Danny be checked out thoroughly by the EMTs. Their assurance that they thought it was just a sprain came with an order to see his doctor tomorrow that Steve had every intention of making sure Danny followed.

Dinner was a loud affair at the Tiki Bar, everyone still high on the race. Steve quieted though as they left, mulling over an invite to Danny to stay the night. He didn't want it to be misconstrued, if there was a reason for Danny to misconstrue it. But at the same time he didn't want it to seem weird. After all, it was late and Danny wasn't going to be able to drive easily, or get around that well, and Steve also had to make sure Danny went to the doctor. 

This was stupid. He wouldn't have thought twice about inviting Danny to stay for perfectly valid reasons like these before That Night. The easiest way to make things seem odd was to do something out of the ordinary.

"You should stay at my place tonight," Steve said. "You can't get around, and you need to see the doctor in the morning anyway."

"It's just a sprain, Steven."

"Yeah, and, let's see you get out and walk more than three steps without writhing in pain."

Danny sighed. "Fine."

"Good." 

He'd expected more of a fight, but Danny didn't seem inclined to argue tonight. Which was so wholly unlike him, as was the silence and stillness, that Steve had to ask, "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think the race just tired me out. Also, my knee could really use an ice pack the size of this car."

"I have a couple of large ice packs," Steve said. He smirked at Danny. "I think one of them is taller than you."

"Shut up."

***

Steve turned on the lights as soon as he was inside, because he wanted Danny to be able to see and not trip. It had nothing to do with not wanting to recreate anything resembling That Night. He got Danny settled on the couch and brought out the ice packs, propping his knee on a pillow and wrapping the packs around it.

Danny's deep sigh of contentment absolutely did nothing to Steve's guts. Nothing at all. "Ice should not feel this good," Danny said. "Ever. I used to be unable to sleep if I was cold, and after I hurt my knee, I discovered I could sleep with my entire leg freezing because at least it didn't hurt as bad."

"You should've let them give you some painkillers."

Danny shook his head. "Makes me use it too much. Pain keeps me off it."

"So you're saying the next time you do something stupid I should kick you to make you stop?"

Danny glared at him. "I hear alcohol is an effective painkiller," he said pointedly.

Steve cleared his throat, ignoring the thoughts that brought to mind. "It can be," he said. "Be right back."

He grabbed two Longboards out of the fridge and opened them before carrying them through to the living room. Danny took one, glancing at it before raising an eyebrow at Steve. "What, no whiskey?"

He couldn't play that off as anything other than a reference to That Night, though without remembering anything, he had no way of knowing if it was a good one or a bad one. Danny didn't seem angry, though. More amused than anything. "Sorry, I'm all out." And probably wouldn't be buying any anytime soon with those associations.

Steve sat down at the edge of the couch, careful not to jostle Danny's knee any more than he had to. He took a long drink of his beer, sinking into the couch a little as tiredness seeped in. 

"So have you gotten anymore strange phone calls?" Danny asked. 

Steve shook his head. "Not since that morning."

"Still think it might be Catherine?"

Steve shrugged. "There's a short list of who it might be."

"That you know of, anyway," Danny said. "How are you doing, anyway? Y'know, with her being gone?"

"Fine." Steve hated conversations like this. He didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. But Danny was Danny--he had a pathological need to talk everything out when it came to relationships with women.

"Really? Because you're assuming random calls are her hanging up. That's clearly fine."

Steve took another drink, careful not to drink too fast. That hadn't worked out so well last time. "It's a logical assumption," Steve said. 

"Maybe, but it's the only one you jumped to." Danny sighed. "You can't ignore things forever, you know?" he said. "At some point you have to talk about them or they eat you up inside."

Steve wondered if that was a reference to That Night. Danny had it wrong, though--some things you had to ignore or then they'd eat you up inside. 

"Hey, did I tell you I recorded the Devils game earlier?"

"And we've been sitting here without the TV on all this time?" Danny said. "Where's that remote?"

Steve turned on the game and resolutely put any thoughts of anything else out of his head.

***


	6. Chapter 6

Danny watched Charlie sleep, an all too familiar activity these days. He'd worried at first about how much Charlie slept, but the doctors had assured him that was normal. Good, even--it meant his body was healing, if their tests were anything to believe. 

He still had trouble wrapping his head around it sometimes, that he had a son. A son whose life he'd missed the first four years of, and Danny had every intention of making sure he was around for many long years to come to make up for it. 

Movement at the door caught Danny's attention, and he looked up to see Steve walking quietly into the room. Steve looked at the bed first, then at Danny, as Steve crossed the room and sat down beside Danny.

"He just conked out a few minutes ago," Danny whispered. 

"You guys have fun?"

Danny nodded, eyes drifting over to the bed. "Yeah, it was good."

Steve's arm bumped against Danny's. "Glad you didn't miss out," Steve said softly.

"Yeah, well, I missed out on a lot already, so...."

Charlie stirred on the bed, sitting up and looking around. "Danno?"

"Over here," Danny said, getting up and going to sit on the edge of the bed. "Did you have a nice nap?"

"Yeah." Charlie rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Can we go trick or treating again?"

"I think all the other kids are done," Danny said, sorry not to have an excuse to do it all over again. 

He heard Steve get up and walk over. "Hey, Charlie," Steve said, stopping beside Danny's shoulder. "I like the costume."

"Thanks! I'm a cowboy!"

"A very good cowboy," Steve said. "Maybe next year we can get you a cop costume."

"No," Danny said. 

Steve's amusement was absolutely not funny or endearing as he said, "Okay, then how about a SEAL."

"I saw seals at the zoo," Charlie said, before Danny could object strenuously. "They were cute. I liked their whiskers."

The look on Steve's face was going to keep Danny laughing for days. "Yes, those kinds of seals are very cute."

"So where do you hide your whiskers, babe?" Danny asked. 

Steve shot him a look, but there wasn't nearly as much annoyance in it as Steve had probably hoped. Charlie yawned, and Danny glanced at his watch. "Visiting hours are almost over," he said, hating that his time with Charlie was almost over. "We should get you ready for bed."

Steve stepped back, but Danny could feel him watching as Danny got Charlie into his pajamas and tucked safely in the bed. "You get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay, Danno. Night."

"Night, buddy."

Danny gave him a hug and headed for the door, bumping into Steve a little on the way there. He was almost to the door when Charlie called out, "Danno?"

"Yeah?"

"I had fun today. Thanks!"

"Me too, buddy. Me, too."

***

Danny was exhausted, but he managed to keep his eyes open as Steve sped away from the hospital. "So what happened with Grace?" Steve asked.

"I found her at the party," Danny said, leaning against the door as he turned a little to look at Steve, "talking to a boy."

"He's still alive, right? Or do we need to go hide a body?"

Danny managed a small smile. "No, no bodies to hide."

"Good. I think I've had enough of bodies for a day or two."

Something in the way Steve said that made Danny ask, "What happened with the case?"

"We found the guy," Steve said.

"I figured that by the bruises on your face," Danny said. "Or at least I hoped that was all it was."

Steve nodded. "He'd been collecting the bodies for months," Steve said, his voice hoarse, as if his usual ability to cut off his emotions wasn't working. "Turns out he was trying to rebuild the woman he lost in a plane crash."

"I'm sorry," Danny said, "I thought you said he was rebuilding a woman."

Steve nodded again. "Each of his victims apparently had a...a part that fit her."

"That's...." Danny shook his head. "I don't even know what to say about that."

"Just be glad you didn't find his handiwork." 

Steve's shudder was enough to tell Danny he was very glad indeed. "Hey," Danny said, "you wanna grab dinner?"

The corner of Steve's mouth quirked up. "Yeah. Dinner would be good. Side Street?"

"Sounds good."

As Steve turned the truck down King, Danny settled into the seat a little more comfortably. Things had been a little...odd between them since the night Catherine left. Well, not odd so much as just...slightly off. A little forced. 

He still hadn't figured out if Steve had forgotten, or just didn't want to remember everything that happened that night, but it didn't matter in the end. Clearly their relationship was strong enough to survive any aberrations. Because they were still them, and that was the only thing that did matter. 

***


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you crazy?"

Steve rolled his eyes as he made the turn onto Beretania, speeding up in hopes of reaching HQ faster and ending this conversation. "What's crazy about asking a pretty woman out on a date, Danny?"

"Asking her out? Nothing," Danny said, hands in the air. "In fact, I applaud that you are moving on. However, taking a first date off to some remote island? You want the list of what's wrong with that alphabetically or chronologically?"

Steve glanced at him. "There's a chronological list?"

"Yes, there is. Number one, she already has expectations. You've made it a special trip kind of date. That is usually third date material, my friend. Number two--"

"Can we just skip to the last one on the list so I know what the ultimate threat is?"

Danny sighed. "There is just no reasoning with you."

"Because that would require reason _from_ you."

Danny threw his hands up. "Fine," he said, as Steve pulled into the parking lot beside his truck. "Just don't call me when you need an airlift rescue because she's picking out china patterns."

Steve shook his head as he opened the car door. "I promise you that I will not need an airlift, and there will be no china," he said as he got out.

Danny rounded the car to grab the driver's side door. "May I remind you what happened when we went to some remote place on the island one Saturday?"

"Okay, sure, I needed an airlift, but...." 

_...it wasn't a date,_ were the next words, but he got lost somewhere in the middle and didn't manage to get them out. 

"My point exactly."

"Yeah, but you weren't picking out china patterns," Steve said, recovering. "So this one will be fine."

Danny shook his head, but he got into the car. "Just don't get her shot, at least, okay?"

"I will not get her shot. I won't even get her shot at."

"You got me shot the first day I met you."

Steve stepped back from the car. "I'm going home. Have fun with Grace and Charlie. See you guys Sunday for lunch?"

"Yeah. Good luck. Don't get killed."

"The things you worry about worry me, Danno."

"Whatever. Goodbye."

***

Despite what both Danny and Lou thought, Steve was not at all worried about being stuck on an island with Lynn. They had a perfectly good boat, and, worst case scenario, Steve could fake a call demanding he return for a case.

Not that he would do that. Unless strictly necessary.

He was sure he wouldn't have to, though. Lynn was easy to be around, and he was far more comfortable than anyone should be on a first date. She reminded him a little of Ellie, maybe that was why. She didn't seem to want anything or have a hidden agenda or secrets. 

The fact that that was remarkable didn't say a lot for his love life to date.

"Mind if I take the wheel?"

 _Uh...yes?_ He couldn't say that, though. Not on a first date. "You ever driven one of these before?"

"Yeah. I grew up on boats. My father was a commercial fisherman."

She was sliding into place, whether he liked it or not. But he was a gentleman. "Okay, you're pushing me out of the way," he said, managing to joke about it as if it wasn't making him want to twitch. "Is that what's happening?"

"Move over." 

He could do this. He could let go of control. "I'll just slide behind you here," he said, enjoying the slide. "I might learn something now."

"Right. Ready?"

 _No._ "Yeah, I'm ready." He swallowed as she went full throttle through the water. "You say your dad was a commercial fisherman?" he asked after a moment.

"He was. But I always thought he went too slow."

 _As in under a hundred?_ "He didn't die in a boating accident, did he?"

"Trust me."

He shoved the unsettling feeling those words evoked down and locked it away. "I don't even know ya," he said, managing a smile. Because he didn't. He didn't know her at all. No expectations, no baggage, just a pretty girl on a sunny day on the ocean.

Which was a good start to getting on with his life.

***

"That's why God invented the selfie," Lynn said, settling into place and holding out her camera. "Unless, of course, you object."

"I do not." He posed and smiled while she snapped the picture, then held out his hand. "Here, let me see that." 

It was a good picture, even he could see she had a good eye. But something about it seemed familiar. He stared at it for a moment until it hit him--blond hair, the height...it was eerily similar to a picture he and Danny had sent to Grace once, when Steve had finally managed to coax Danny out for another hike. Grace had demanded proof, and Danny had snuggled in close to get both of them in the frame without losing the background. 

"I can erase it if you don't like it."

Lynn's voice sounded uncertain, and he hurried to make her feel better. "Why would you erase it?" he asked. "It's a great photo. It's perfect." 

Steve watched as she lingered over the photo, his eyes going everywhere but to the screen. "Okay, he said, after a moment, "you know what, we should head back."

She put her phone away, claiming she knew a shortcut to the beach. Steve was all for that--a shortcut would get them back to the boat faster, and the boat meant they were on their way back to Oahu. 

Maybe, just maybe, Danny and Lou had had a point. 

***

Trying to keep both of them from dying kept his mind off the picture for a while--though he did spare a thought to how much shit Danny was going to give him at getting her shot at after all. It wasn't until they pushed off the island to head back to Oahu that he remembered the picture again.

It was silly--it was a good picture, and there was no reason why it should remind him of Danny. Or why it should bother him if it did. It had to be That Night, that was all. He'd let that go, but his subconscious apparently hadn't read the memo on that one. 

But it needed to get on board. Because he'd discovered Lynn was pretty amazing, and he couldn't pass up a chance to move on over some stupid question of what may or may not have happened one drunken night.

If Lynn didn't run screaming from him as soon as they hit land again, he'd have to ask her out on a second date. Sooner or later his subconscious would get the idea, and everything would be fine. 

***


	8. Chapter 8

Danny was already in the passenger seat when Steve came out of HQ. Something was different, but it wasn't until Steve got into the car that Danny figured it out. 

"That a new shirt?" Danny asked.

Steve busied himself with putting the car in gear and pulling off. "Hm?"

He wasn't looking at Danny, either--classic McGarrett tactic for avoiding something he didn't want to talk about, which, of course, immediately made the shirt ten times more interesting. "That shirt, the one you are currently wearing," Danny said. "Is that new?"

Steve shrugged. "I think it's been in my closet."

Not an outright lie, but the way he still wasn't looking at Danny, despite the lack of traffic at a stop light, was enough for Danny to go on. "Really?" Danny asked. "How long has it been in your closet?"

Steve glanced his way before focusing on the road again. "You wanna talk about my wardrobe, or you wanna know about this shooting?"

"Please," Danny said, "enlighten me about the shooting."

After all, he had all day to find out about the shirt. 

***

"What do you think?" Steve asked. 

Danny watched Hank being carted off by Duke. "I think he probably pissed off enough people and karma caught up with him. I just feel bad for the mark."

"Okay, but it doesn't make any sense to me," Steve said. "Who kills somebody over a wedding ring and some cash?"

Danny shrugged. "Who considers a new shirt classified information?"

"Really?" Steve said, almost meeting Danny's eyes. "You wanna do this now?"

"Hey, it's just a shirt, right?"

"Exactly," Steve said, as if his point had just been proven. "Now, can we go see what Kono and Lou found out, or do you wanna quiz me about my pants?"

"Now that you mention it--" Danny started, but Steve was too far away to hear the rest.

***

Danny watched as Hank walked off with Lou, eyes on Hank's hands, just in case. Come to think of it....

Danny checked his pocket, relieved to find his wallet still there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Steve doing the same. Once they were sure they hadn't been pick pocketed, Danny couldn't help himself. "Y'know, I never thought I'd meet anybody more frustrating than you."

"Oh, that's nice," Steve said, looking amused for all that his words were intended to be annoyed, "you just compared me to Hank."

"On an irritation level, yes. You two are very similar." 

"Is that right?"

"Mmhm."

Steve didn't lob the ball back, though, he just walked by Danny like he'd suddenly seen something shiny in the distance. "Where are you going?" Danny asked.

"I'm going to get coffee...with somebody, is that all right?"

Danny noticed the hesitation before the 'with somebody' and the quick way Steve was deflecting, and suddenly the new shirt made sense. "Who are you going to get coffee with?"

"None of your business. How is it your business?"

Way too quick for someone with nothing to hide. "Is it that girl you hung out with last week?"

"What did I just say to you?"

Steve's phone rang, and Danny nodded at it. "Is that her right now? Because if it is, let me talk to her, I'll set her straight." 

"No, no, you won't talk to her. You're never even gonna meet her." 

Interesting. He didn't want to admit he was going to get coffee and he didn't want Danny to meet her. If Danny didn't know all about Steve's boat load of issues, he'd be suspicious. As it was, he just figured Steve was being--well, Steve. Cautious, detached, ready for things to blow up in his face Steve.

At what point Danny had started thinking that was actually cute was still a mystery. 

He didn't get a chance to push any further, though, as they realized that Hank had been playing them from before they'd even met. 

***

They were in the car, Hank in the back seat, cuffed and silent, when Steve looked at his watch. "Dammit."

"What?" Danny asked. "Oh. Right. Coffee."

Steve took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "Just let me call--"

"Stop," Danny said, putting a hand on Steve's arm. "Just go. I can take Henry Gondorff here to jail by myself."

"You sure?" Steve asked, but his hand was already on the door handle.

"I'm sure." Danny opened the door and got out, going around to the driver's seat. "Get outta here."

The smile he got was worth it. "Thanks. I owe you."

"Yeah, and I'm not gonna forget it, either." Danny got into the car and pulled the seat up before putting the car in gear. 

"Henry Gondorff," Hank said from the back seat. "Nice reference. You think I look like Paul Newman?"

"I think you look like Newman from Seinfeld." 

"Hey, man, where's the love? I'm gonna help you catch the guy."

Danny glanced in the rear view mirror. "The guy who you already killed four people for? That guy?"

Hank shrugged, like four lives didn't matter. "So where'd McGarrett go, anyway?"

"None of your business."

"Date?" Apparently Hank took Danny's silence as confirmation. "Funny," Hank said, "I would've sworn..."

Danny counted to three, but he couldn't help it. "What?"

"It's nothing," Hank said. "I just would've thought he...I mean, you and he seem like--"

Danny hit the brakes harder than strictly necessary, and Hank slid forward, head hitting the passenger seat. "You were saying?" Danny asked as he sped up again.

"Nothing. I was saying nothing."

***

Danny had just climbed into bed when Steve answered his text from hours before that Hank was safely locked away. 

_Thanks. See you tomorrow._

He wondered if Steve had been on his date the whole time, or if he just hadn't replied until now. Not that it mattered. Danny was glad that Steve was moving on, and that Catherine's departure, and everything that happened the night she left was in the past. 

He's happy that Steve's interested in someone, even if it's just a rebound girl. The one after the one that got away never lasts--everyone knows that. No wonder he didn't want Danny to meet her. No point, really, not if she's rebound material. He'll meet the next one. He'll even be sure to be on his best behavior for it, as long as she makes Steve happy. Because that's all that matters. 

***

_He'd known what Steve's hands felt like, had felt them on him in solidarity and comfort and relief, but feeling them on his bare skin like this was something else entirely._

_Danny pushed against Steve, loving the heat and the strength. He had to use all his power to push Steve over onto his back, get him under Danny's body so Danny could explore, lips traveling slowly down Steve's chest, tasting every inch as Danny--_

Danny woke up, his dick straining against his shorts, his body overheated from the dream. He couldn't finish it, would not, not after that, so he lay there, slowing his breathing, willing his dick to calm the fuck down.

He hadn't dreamed about it in weeks. He'd thought the dreams had finally died down, that the return of normalcy between him and Steve had shut them up.

Apparently not in the face of the faceless coffee date.

It was all well and good for Steve, who apparently really didn't remember. But what was Danny supposed to do with the memories when they refused to just go away?

Maybe the fact that Steve didn't remember was the problem. Sometimes it feels like he's hiding something from Steve, like he'd taken advantage of him, even though they were both willing participants. Even though it had been Steve who'd--

Which wasn't the point. The point was, Steve didn't remember, and Danny wasn't telling. Secrets never go well. 

But then he couldn't exactly say, hey, you know that night Catherine left? Guess what....

No, he really couldn't. 

So his subconscious would just have to fuck off. 

He turned over, punching the pillow a few times before he closed his eyes and told his brain to shut the fuck up for the rest of the night.

***


	9. Chapter 9

"You do realize," Danny said, as Steve pulled up to Danny's house, "that of all your bad ideas, this is the worst ever. Right?"

Steve parked the car and got out, not even trying to hide his amusement as he followed Danny into the house. "Worse than the shark cage?"

"Yes."

"That's saying something considering that you still don't let that one go."

Danny turned in the middle of the living room, pointing a finger at Steve. "And I will never let it go, because you need constant reminders of the stupid things you do. It's the only way to try to tame you."

"Tame me?"

Danny rolled his eyes and turned around, continuing on to his bedroom as he called over his shoulder, "Yeah, I should know better than to think that was possible."

Steve paused only a second before stepping across the threshold into Danny's bedroom. Not that he hadn't been in there plenty of times, but it was the first time he'd been in a bedroom with Danny since That Night, and since Steve's subconscious was still actively plotting against him, he didn't need to give it any ammo by putting the two of them in a room with a bed.

"Okay, genius," Danny said, thankfully oblivious to Steve's pause coming into the room, "you think I can blend in as a professor? What do I need to wear to do that?"

Steve shrugged. "You went to a normal college, you tell me."

"Yes, I did go to a normal, non-military-robot college, thank you. But that was almost 20 years ago. I'm pretty sure that my references are a little outdated."

Steve thought back to the college campuses they'd visited in the past few years, sorting through mental images and putting one together that fit Danny. "Okay, jeans," Steve said.

"Jeans? Aren't professors professionals? As in their title is most of the word professional?"

"Yeah, but it's the 21st century. Professors under the age of 50 dress a little cooler."

Danny's look clearly said he thought Steve was full of shit. "Right, and you know all about this how, exactly?"

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Fine," Danny said on a sigh. "Jeans it is." He pulled a pair of jeans out of a drawer and tossed them onto the bed. "What else?"

Steve went to the closet and looked through Danny's shirts, pulling out one that looked like a business professor might like. "Here," he said, holding the shirt out for Danny to take. Once Danny had it, Steve flipped through Danny's ties, pulling out a black one Danny usually wore with a nicer suit. "And this," Steve said, dropping it on the bed. At Danny's strange look, Steve said, "What?"

"You're telling me to put on a tie," Danny said slowly. "I was just wondering when we'd entered bizarro Hawaii."

Steve shook his head. "Would you just get dressed, please? You're gonna miss your class."

Danny started undressing, and Steve thought it might be a good time to look through Danny's closet again, since it required turning his back on Danny. "What are you looking for?" Danny asked, his voice muffled, presumably by his shirt.

"Shoes," Steve said. He spotted the pair he wanted quickly, but waited until he heard the zip of Danny's jeans to pull them out of the back of the closet.

He turned to see Danny with the jeans on, but just starting on the buttons of his shirt, leaving a large expanse of his chest open. Steve swallowed carefully, blanking his mind of anything his subconscious might try throwing at him. "Here," Steve said, dropping the shoes on the floor in front of Danny. 

He turned around to the closet again, slowly reviewing Danny's jackets. He had no intention of actually having Danny wear one, but he needed an excuse not to stare until Danny was buttoned up. When Steve heard the scuffle of the shoes, he turned around again to find Danny sitting on the bed, lacing the shoes up. 

When Danny was done, he stood. "Am I sufficiently professorly?"

Steve eyed him critically before taking a knee right in front of Danny, rolling his jeans cuffs up just enough to be less casual, more preppy. "There," Steve said, looking up at Danny to find an expression on Danny's face that Steve couldn't figure out, one that Steve was unable to look away from for a long moment. 

"Okay," Danny said finally, clearing his throat. "Should we go?"

"One more thing," Steve said, pushing up to his feet. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a pair of glasses, holding them up. 

"Oh, I see just fine, thank you," Danny said.

"Yeah, but they finish the look," Steve said. "Plus, if anyone's seen you in the news, it's extra cover to throw them off."

Danny's eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? Who am I, Clark Kent?" he asked. "Besides, you think these kids actually watch the news?"

Steve sighed as he opened up the glasses. "Just wear them, please," Steve said, placing them carefully on Danny's face. The glasses were perfect for Danny's face, and the lenses somehow made Danny's eyes look even bluer around the edges of his wide, dark pupils, making it tough for Steve to look away. Danny's eyes that close, something about the look on his face, it triggered something--dream or memory, he still wasn't sure. Not that it mattered if it was real--his body certainly thought it was, judging by its reaction.

Steve stepped back with a little cough, and took a deep breath before he looked at Danny again. Danny's smile made Steve wonder just how much he'd given away in the last sixty seconds. "So," Danny said finally, his voice a little hoarse, "will I do?"

After a brief inspection, Steve nodded. "You'll do. Let's go."

***

Danny was tossing tomatoes into a pot when his cell phone rang. A quick glance at the screen showed Steve's face, so Danny answered. "Hey, how'd the hearing go?"

"The judge granted Nahele's father custody."

Steve sounded even more unhappy about it than he had before. "Maybe that's not such a bad thing," Danny said.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, even when Nahele stormed out of the courtroom."

After a moment, Danny prompted, "But?"

"I found him here--at my place. In the garage," Steve said slowly. "And I was right. He wasn't telling me everything."

Danny put the pot on the stove and turned the heat on. "What did he say?"

"He said his father murdered someone when he was a kid. That Nahele was a witness."

"Wow," Danny said, leaning against the counter. "He killed someone in front of his kid?"

"No, Nahele only heard the shot, but...who does that to their kid, Danny?"

"Not anyone who should get custody, that's for sure."

He heard Steve take a long breath. "Nahale said the body was left in the forest. I'm gonna go out there and see what I find."

"You want company?" Danny asked.

"No, I know Rachel's bringing the kids over. I've got CSU already on the way out there. I just...I don't know what to say to Nahele."

"There's not a lot you can say to something like that," Danny replied. "You just need to make him feel safe and keep him away from his father."

"Yeah, I'm going to drop him off at HQ. Abby and Chin will be there, so he'll be safe."

Danny checked his watch. "You sure you don't want me to come?"

"No, stay with your kids. Someone should experience good parenting today."

Danny thought Nahele had, just not from his biological father. "Okay. Call if you change your mind. And let me know what you find?"

"Yeah, I will," Steve said. "Thanks."

They hung up, and Danny stared at his phone before he put it in his pocket again. Not for the first time, he marveled at how Steve had taken a kid who'd stolen his car under his wing and gotten to this point. The guy really was a giant marshmallow, which only made it harder for Danny to forget that one night he was trying to banish from his head.

Steve hadn't done anything to improve Danny's situation when he'd helped Danny find an outfit to go undercover. The image of Steve on his knees as he'd rolled up Danny's cuffs, then looked up, was etched in Danny's brain, which was coming up with increasingly X-rated alternate scenarios to why Steve was on his knees when Danny was asleep--and sometimes when he wasn't asleep. 

It was almost enough to make him wish for just enough amnesia to forget that one night. How was he supposed to keep this secret from Steve if he couldn't forget it?

A hiss from the stove distracted him, and he looked to see the tomatoes sizzling because he'd forgotten to add water. He needed to stop thinking about things that shouldn't have happened and wouldn't ever happen again and focus on the present, on feeding his kids when they got there.

His midlife crisis could wait until he was asleep.

***


	10. Chapter 10

_Danny's skin was a revelation. Hot and sweet to taste, soft as Steve skirted his hands over it, with all that muscle underneath. It was uncharted territory, and Steve wanted to stay right there until it was all mapped and he knew every inch intimately._

_The sounds Danny made were another revelation. Steve thought he'd heard every nuance Danny's voice could hold, but this was a whole new category, one he wanted to learn all about._

_"Steve...."_

_Danny's voice shot through Steve like fire, and Steve had to stop and take a deep breath to take things slow. He wanted to touch, wanted to taste and suck until Danny was begging for release. Until Danny--_

Steve woke up, looking around the dark, quiet bedroom. His body was confused, aching for release and not understanding why it wasn't getting it. 

Steve moved to the other side of the bed, the cold sheets helping him ground himself in reality. He had no idea which parts of his dreams--if any--were real. But this, being alone in his bed, wanting things he couldn't have...that was real. Familiar, even.

He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep, but sleep, it seemed, was out of the question. 

It wasn't so much that he wanted Danny, he told himself. It was that he didn't know what really happened That Night. He'd ask Danny point blank, just to put himself out of his misery, but things were good between them now. They'd lost any of that awkwardness that he may or may not have been imagining right after That Night, and Steve didn't want to mess that up. 

And bringing it up clearly would do that, or Danny would've said something. Danny had no problem talking, not like Steve did. Assuming, of course, there was something to talk about, and this wasn't just a case of his brain playing tricks on him.

The room was getting lighter, and Steve flipped over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. He could get up early, get in a longer swim before Danny comes to pick him up, see if it helped quiet his brain.

Something was wrong with that thought, but it took him a minute to realize what. Danny wouldn't be picking him up--it was Christmas.

He could imagine the scene at Danny's right now--Grace and Charlie running around on too little sleep and too many presents to play with at once. He could get up and go over there--Danny had said to come over as early as he wanted, since Grace and Charlie weren't about to let him sleep. But Steve wanted to give Danny some time alone to enjoy his first Christmas with both his kids before Steve horned in.

Which still gave him time for a swim.

***

As he hit the ocean, Steve wondered how Kono was doing. Watching her have to let Adam go at the prison had felt a little familiar, even if he and Catherine obviously hadn't had half of what was between Kono and Adam. 

She had to be missing Adam like crazy. Danny had told her to come over Christmas morning as well, but Steve had a feeling she was finding reasons not to. But he'd learned through the same stubbornness that being alone might not be the best thing to do.

He'd have to make sure she didn't stay home.

***

When he showed up at Kono’s, she was still in pajamas, and already protesting as she opened the door. “I’m not good company,” she said, as Steve walked in. “I don’t want to ruin their Christmas.”

“You know if you don’t come that Danny will just worry about you the whole day, right?”

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile—even if it was a sad one—on her face. “Just Danny?”

“No,” he said. “Not just Danny.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, I know something about sitting around moping when I shouldn’t, all right? Just come for a little while. It’ll help.”

Her smile faded. “I don’t think anything will help.”

Steve shrugged. “Help is a relative word. But it’s better than sitting at home alone. I promise.”

“Okay,” she said after a few seconds. “Let me change and I’ll come over.”

“You can ride with me.”

She shook her head. “I’ll drive myself. You go on.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.” She nudged him. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Okay,” Steve said, heading for the door. “But if you’re not there in twenty minutes—“

“I get it. Go.”

***

The scene in Danny’s living room was pure chaos. 

Wrapping paper was everywhere, large pieces and small shreds mixed together all over the floor. Charlie was on the floor, Grace helping him put together a castle, a shiny new Devils jersey pulled on over her pajamas. Steve was surprised to realize he recognized Schneider’s name and number on the back—clearly Danny had been a bad influence.

“Hey,” Danny said, negotiating the minefield of paper to meet Steve by the door. “Merry Christmas.”

“Mele Kalikimaka,” Steve said, just to get that look on Danny’s face. 

Danny shook his head. “I’m sorry, we only serve breakfast to people who speak English.”

“I speak English,” Steve said. “Though if it’s eggs I could switch to pidgin.”

“It was one time! Are you ever going to let that go?” Danny’s smile was still in place, though, as he pulled Steve further into the living room. “Anyway, no, it’s not eggs, it’s pancakes.”

“In that case, Merry Christmas.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Grace ran up to give him a hug. “Mele Kalikimaka, Uncle Steve!” she said.

Steve smirked at Danny. “Mele Kalikimaka, Gracie. I see Santa likes hockey.”

“Yeah, I think Danno might’ve given him a hint,” she said, shooting a smile at Danny.

“If Danno had anything to do with it,” Danny said, “that jersey would say Lemieux.”

Grace rolled her eyes. “He’s so old.”

“Okay, I’m going to ignore that on the basis that you’re sleep deprived and wired.” Danny looked around her. “Charlie! Look who’s here!”

Charlie finally looked up from his toy and smiled. “Uncle Steve!” He pushed up and ran over to give Steve a hug. 

“Hey, buddy! Was Santa good to you?”

“Yeah! He gave me a bunch of toys!” Charlie tugged on Steve’s hand. “Come see!” 

“Hang on, buddy,” Danny said. “Let’s get some breakfast first.”

Charlie’s frown stopped just short of a pout. “But Danno….”

“No ‘but Danno.’ You said you wanted to wait until Steve got here. He’s here.”

The words warmed Steve’s heart, even if he suspected it was more of a stalling tactic for the kids to get to play with their stuff longer. “Kono was right behind me,” Steve said, “if we wanted to wait for—“

There was a quick knock at the door before it opened, Kono pushing her head in before pushing the door open all the way. She was wrapped in hugs by Grace and Charlie before she could fully get the door closed. 

“I figured she wouldn’t come,” Danny said quietly as Kono said hi to the kids.

“She wouldn’t have,” Steve said, eyes on Kono. “But I went over to her house and talked her into it.”

“You did what?”

Steve looked at Danny. “I went over and told her that no matter how much she wanted to mope around alone, she’d feel better if she came over here.”

“And where, pray tell, did you get this newfound knowledge about how licking your wounds alone is bad for you?”

Steve shrugged, but he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting up. “I might’ve picked up some advice somewhere….”

Danny showed no discomfort at the hint at That Night. “About time that penetrated your thick skull,” he said. 

“Yeah, well….”

Danny smiled and nudged Steve with his shoulder. “Come on, let’s rescue Kono and get something to eat.”

Danny pulled Kono free of Charlie and Grace and managed to corral everyone into the kitchen, where pancakes, fruit, milk, juice and coffee awaited. Seeing Kono smile was just about the best Christmas gift Steve could hope for, even with the sadness still there in her eyes if you looked deep enough.

The other best gift was watching Danny, Grace and Charlie, a happy family despite everything that had happened, enjoying Christmas morning the way they should. The way they should have all along. 

But it wasn’t the day to think about what should’ve been. Danny was happy now, and that was what mattered. 

When they’d finished breakfast, Grace and Charlie pulled Steve into the floor to help build Charlie’s castle. He lost track of time until Kono came over to say goodbye.

“You’re leaving so soon?” Steve said.

“It’s been two hours.”

He got it, he really did. Probably more than he wanted to. Still, he’d learned over the last few years how that instinct wasn’t necessarily good. His eyes went to Danny, who just shook his head, giving him the cue that maybe Kono needed some alone time now. 

“Well, you’re going to miss the moat,” Steve said, pushing himself up off the floor.

“There will be no moat in my living room,” Danny said, as Steve gave Kono a hug.

“But Danno,” Steve said over Kono’s shoulder, “every castle needs a moat.”

“Yeah, Danno!” Charlie echoed from the floor.

Steve saw Danny’s head shake again before Steve let Kono go. “Come on,” Steve said, “I’ll walk you out.”

He held the door open and followed her out, closing the door behind them. “You sure you can’t stay a little longer?”

Her smile was still sad, but genuine. “I need some time,” she said. “I just…the happy family is great until….”

“Yeah, I know.” He’d had the same problem at times, usually after another bombshell about his own family. There was only so much you could look at what you would never have before you needed to close your eyes to it. 

Though it had been a while since he’d felt that way around Danny and his family, he realized. He turned that over in his head, wondering just when he’d stopped feeling that way.

“What’s wrong?” Kono asked.

Steve put the thought aside for later. “Nothing. Just…it’s nothing.”

“Okay.” She looked as though she was going to say something, but then stopped. “I’m here if you want to talk, you know that, right?”

“Yeah. And I appreciate it.” Especially when she had her own shit to deal with.

“You know where to find me,” she said. “Speaking of which, I’m going home.”

He gave her another hug. “Call if you need anything.”

“I will.”

He wasn’t sure she would, but it would have to be enough. She was a grown woman. “Good.”

He watched her get into her car before he went back inside to find Danny trying to get Charlie to take a nap. Charlie’s stubborn face, even as he was yawning and barely able to keep his eyes open, reminded Steve so much of Danny for a moment it stopped him in his tracks. 

By the time he’d recovered, Danny had Charlie halfway down the hall. Steve sat down on the couch, giving Grace a smile as she looked up from her tablet. 

“Did you get everything you wanted for Christmas?” Steve asked.

Grace nodded, glancing at the hallway before looking at Steve again. “I mostly wanted Charlie out of the hospital,” she said quietly. “So yeah.”

He remembered when Mary had had an operation to put tubes in her ears, and she’d gotten an infection, and stayed in the hospital for a couple of days. He’d been so confused, and worried that the kid they’d brought home who’d originally annoyed the hell out of him with her crying would suddenly be gone. 

It was the first time he’d really understood what it was like to be a big brother.

“It’s hard sometimes,” Steve said, “being the big sister.”

“Yeah, but it’s fun. I mean…” she glanced at the hallway again, “the whole thing’s weird. With Charlie and Mom and Stan and Danno….”

“Yeah, not your usual family situation.”

She laughed. “Not unless you’re on Dr. Phil.”

He understood a little more why Danny had seemed so unsettled after Halloween. It was strange, seeing the rapid-fire changes between the little girl Steve had first gotten to know, the teenager she was becoming, and flashes of the woman she would be one day. “Watching that show will rot your brain.”

“Watching that show makes me realize my family isn’t all that messed up.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Didn’t have a chance anyway, not with Danny coming back down the hall. 

“Did you win the great nap battle?” Steve asked.

“He was asleep thirty seconds after his head hit the pillow, right in the middle of a protest that he wasn’t tired.” Danny turned a fond smile on Grace. “I seem to remember a similar Christmas with you a few years back.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I was an angel.”

“Of course you were.”

Their banter warmed Steve from the inside out. “Just like your dad?” he asked Grace, making her laugh so hard that Danny looked a little offended.

“Are you sure you don’t need a nap?” Danny asked her.

“Danno! I’m not a kid!”

“I don’t know, you look a little tired.”

She looked more annoyed than tired, though Steve could see it was an act, the affection showing through. 

“Okay,” Danny said, sitting down beside Steve. “Movie?”

Grace nodded. “A Christmas Story?”

“That’s my girl,” Danny said, turning on the TV and pushing play on the DVD that was already in the player. 

About half an hour into the movie, Steve looked over at Grace to see that she was passed out, her tablet in her lap where she was curled up in the chair, her mouth hanging open just a little. “So much for not needing that nap,” Steve said quietly to Danny.

“Yeah, I knew she’d be out cold in no time,” Danny said, the fondness in his voice almost too much for Steve to handle. “She likes to think she’s an adult, but there’s still enough kid left in her.”

“Not for much longer,” Steve said.

Danny backhanded him lightly on the arm. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Anytime, Danno,” Steve said, giving him a sunny smile.

Danny smiled back, before his eyes drifted to Grace again. “Did you see what she gave me for Christmas?” 

Steve shook his head, and Danny got up and picked up a picture frame from the table by the tree. He put it in Steve’s hands as he sat back down.

It was a picture of Danny, Grace and Charlie – a selfie from Grace’s phone, judging by the way she was holding her arm out. They were smiling at the camera, looking healthy and happy, and part of Steve wanted to pocket the picture to take out and look at when his house felt particularly lonely.

“That’s a great picture.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s tone spoke volumes. “She’s a great kid.”

“Well, that stands to reason,” Steve said, handing the picture back before he did something stupid. “You’re a great dad.”

He loved that bashful, pleased look Danny got sometimes, particularly when Steve said something like that. “Thanks.”

“Hey, that reminds me,” Steve said, fishing an envelope out of the side pocket of his pants. “Merry Christmas,” he said, handing the envelope over to Danny. 

Danny opened the envelope, smiling as he saw the contents. “A weekend at the Kahala resort? We’ve reached the stage where you’re repeating presents?” he asked, warmth in his eyes. 

Steve shrugged, ducking his head. “I thought Charlie deserved the chance to swim with the dolphins with his dad and sister.”

“This is…this is nice,” Danny said, tucking the card back in the envelope and pocketing it. “Thank you.”

Steve cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.” 

“Hang on,” Danny said. He disappeared into his room and came out with a Christmas gift bag, dropping it in Steve’s lap before sitting down again. 

Steve pulled the tissue paper carefully out of the top, placing it aside before reaching in to feel around in the mass of paper still left. His hand curled around something, and he pulled it out to see a bottle of whiskey.

The exact whiskey they’d had That Night.

He glanced at Danny, who was doing a damn good impression of innocence. “I figure we drank all yours, so I owed you some.”

It was nothing. Danny knew that was the brand Steve liked, and he replaced it. It didn’t mean anything. Liquor was a common enough Christmas present, especially among coworkers. It didn’t have to mean anything. 

Of course, just because it didn’t have to didn’t stop Steve’s brain.

“You missed something in the bag.”

Steve reached inside again, his hand touching something solid. He pulled it out, wrapped in taped tissue paper that revealed a picture frame. Steve stared at the picture inside, stunned at a memory he had completely lost until now.

It was the Christmas he was eight. Santa had brought him a guitar, and his dad had sat down to help him learn. In the picture, Steve was on the floor, the guitar huge in his lap. His dad was sitting behind him, arms around him, showing him how to position his fingers. 

He could see a blur in the distance that was Mary, playing with something—a doll, he remembered now. His mom had been the one taking the picture. He’d soon outgrown his dad’s limited playing skills and started taking lessons, but he’d remembered that moment for a long time, the first time he’d had a guitar placed in his hands.

How he’d forgotten it he wasn’t sure. Well, he had an idea—he was an expert on pushing painful memories away. It made sense he’d have locked the good memories of playing the guitar away with the bad ones. 

Steve looked at Danny, who was watching him carefully. “How…I mean, where…?”

“Deb,” Danny said softly. “I asked her if she had any old pictures, something I could get cleaned up and framed, and....” Danny nodded at the frame. “She sent me a scan of this one.”

“Danny, I….” Steve tried to find words, but they wouldn’t come. Danny had been instrumental in giving him back Hawaii as his home, and now it was like he was determined to give Steve back his life, one piece at a time. 

What could you say in the face of something that huge? 

“I figure it might help you start playing again, since you have that nice guitar and all.”

Steve smiled. He actually had been playing a little, but not enough that he was willing to show anyone yet. “I think it’ll help, yeah.” He paused to clear his throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Steve wondered what other memories he might’ve locked away, and what he might find if he opened that trunk. No, less of a trunk and more of Pandora’s Box, but if it brings memories like this, it might be worth the risk.

Maybe it would bring him the memory of what really happened That Night. 

Grace’s tablet fell off her lap, waking her up. She rubbed her eyes and blinked at them. “When are we having lunch?” she asked, still sounding as if she was half asleep.

“Come on,” Danny said, getting to his feet. “Let’s go see what’s in the kitchen.”

Steve watched them go, looking at the picture for a long moment before he placed it carefully in the gift bag, the whiskey going in just as carefully beside it.

He’d open up Pandora’s Box a little and see if he could remember. And if he couldn’t, he was going to ask. Because he was through playing games. 

He needed to know.

***


	11. Chapter 11

Danny put his headphones on and focused on the tiny screen in front of him, doing his best to pretend Steve wasn’t spending the whole flight flirting with their seatmate. Not that he cared who Steve flirted with, but this was supposed to be their time to work on their relationship, and since his life depended on their relationship being in working order, he wished that Steve would take it a little more seriously. 

It seemed his wishes were dead, though, as he listened to Steve outline his planned activities on the way to check in. None of them included anything that would improve their ability to communicate. It did, however, apparently include a complete disrespect for the fact that Danny had a girlfriend, even if his relationship with Melissa had been somewhat casual the last several months, since Steve had basically set them both up with dates. 

Danny was so lost in his own head that it took him a few seconds of reading the itinerary their therapist handed him to realize he wasn’t hallucinating. _Overcoming Sexual Incompatibility?_ Not really a problem for them, in so many ways, but he sure as hell wasn’t having any conversation anywhere near that, not with Steve on the same island. 

“Sex is a vital component for a loving relationship,” Loraine said.

“Uh-huh,” Danny said, not quite able to look at Steve yet because he didn’t want to be arrested for assault. “You signed us up for couple’s therapy?”

“Oops.”

 _Oops?_ Danny clenched his fists to avoid said assault arrest. 

“This is fine,” Steve said, as Danny dug his nails into his palms. “We can work with this. This is fine.”

“It’s gonna be great,” Loraine added.

Danny counted to five. “We, uh…we’re not a couple,” he said, finally looking at Loraine, who looked confused. 

“But you signed up for a couple’s retreat.”

“No,” Danny said, “he signed us up for a partners ‘boot camp’ – and let me tell you, the words boot camp are like catnip to this idiot. I’m pretty sure he didn’t read more than ‘Maui’ and ‘resort’ after that before clicking register, because the Navy taught him everything about survival except for in-depth reading comprehension. And he certainly doesn’t need me to make any decisions, so of course he never told me anything except what to pack and what time we were leaving. In military time, of course, because he’s Steve.”

Loraine had gone from confused to looking as if she knew something Danny didn’t. “I see,” she said.

“You see what?”

“Look,” Steve interrupted, hand on Danny’s arm. “We’re partners—as in law enforcement. Five-0, the governor’s task force. We have mandatory therapy requirements and I just thought getting away from our jobs and doing the therapy in a more remote location might help.”

Bullshit, every last word, Danny knew, because his McGarrett bullshit meter was finely honed. Loraine, who apparently had no such meter, bought the whole thing. “Well,” she said, looking between them, her eyes focusing on the hand Steve had on Danny’s arm for a brief moment. “I suppose we could adjust things a little. After all, who am I to turn away people who so clearly need my help?”

Steve squeezed Danny’s arm a little until Danny looked up at him. “Well?”

“Oh, you mean I get a say?” Danny asked. “That’s new.”

“Danny….”

“Fine,” Danny said, lifting his hands in surrender, dislodging Steve’s hand in the process. “It’s fine.”

At least it would get their therapy time out of the way for the year. And with Loraine “No Cell Phones” on the watch, Steve would have to suffer through all of this at Danny’s mercy.

Maybe they could work with this after all.

***

“No,” Danny said. “I am not wearing that.”

“Danno,” Loraine started, “everyone has to wear—“

“No. My name is Danny. Just because this schmuck refuses to accept that does not mean I have to wear that around all day.”

Loraine frowned at Steve, which actually made Danny feel a little better. “We can get you a new name tag,” she said.

“No, actually, you know what?” Danny took the name tag and put it on the table, grabbing the pen. He crossed out ‘Danno’ and wrote Danny in its place before sticking the badge on his chest. “There. Maybe now he’ll remember what my name is.”

Loraine was frowning at both of them now. “I can see we have our work cut out for us here.”

_You ain’t kidding, sister._

***

Steve was man enough to admit when he’d chickened out. Well, okay, he was man enough to at least know it. He’d had chances to ask Danny about what happened That Night since Christmas, and he hadn’t done it. 

So he’d planned this trip. Therapy, as annoying as it was, had gotten them to open up to each other over the past couple of years. He’d figured maybe being away together combined with therapy might force his hand.

And then he’d chickened out. He’d planned every minute of the trip and left no time for the actual therapy, and he’d even found a willing participant to help him in Alissa. 

Then Loraine had happened. Boot camp indeed--she might have a more subtle style than the people who had shaped him in the Navy, but she certainly could hold her own against them in her way. 

And now Steve was stuck tying himself to Danny, literally, their legs stuck together. Loraine was telling them to run, and Steve wanted to, but since he wanted to run away from Danny, this was not really helping.

He had to find a way to get out to meet up with Alissa, Danny or no Danny. He needed that buffer, or….

Well, he just needed that buffer. 

***

“Come on, Danny, go with me,” Steve said, poking his head around the corner of the bathroom door. “It’ll be fun.”

Danny shook his head as he adjusted the pillow under his foot and set the ice more firmly on top of it. “No, thanks. I don’t think my foot is up for it.”

The foot that wouldn’t be injured if Steve hadn’t been so anxious to get away. “So take a couple aspirin and come with us. It’s not like we’re going to be dancing or something.”

“No.”

Steve knew that tone, and he knew how final that no was. Danny winced as he adjusted the pillow again, and Steve steeled himself against a wave of guilt. “Maybe I should stay then, in case you need anything.”

“No reason for both of us to be stuck in here all night,” Danny said with a wave of his hand. “Go on. Have fun.”

Something was off about his tone. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, one corner of his mouth ticking up as he looked up at Steve. “Go. Seriously. I’m fine.”

“Okay. I’ll send you pics.”

“Yeah, great. Thanks.”

***

Danny moved his ice pack around, frowning as he realized it was more water than ice. He shifted it again, only to have water slosh out, down his foot and onto his pillow. 

“Fuck!”

He hobbled into the bathroom to get a towel and dry off his foot. That done, he figured he might as well get ready for bed, since he’d already made it into the bathroom. Maybe in Maui, away from home, he’d actually get a good night’s sleep.

The dreams hadn’t really let up since Christmas, and every time he was faced with Steve remembering nothing of what happened, it just piled on. He hated this secret, but he still had no idea how to drop that bomb on Steve. 

Steve, who seemed to be moving on from being left behind by Catherine. Moving on in spades, given that, in addition to the girl he’d been seeing on Oahu, he was currently out with two girls. 

Then again, maybe he wasn’t so much moving on as avoiding. 

If there was one thing Steve McGarrett was good at, other than the crazy Ninja SEAL shit, it was avoiding. 

If he wasn’t quite so good at it, maybe Danny wouldn’t have this secret eating him up. After all, it was Steve’s fault in the first place. Though that wasn’t really fair—Steve may have started it, but Danny wasn’t nearly as drunk as Steve had been. He should’ve stopped it. But he’d wanted to get that look off Steve’s face, the one that said that no one in the world cared enough about him to stay. And he’d have done anything to prove that wasn’t true.

So now he was stuck with the consequences. 

_They’re stuck in a relationship they can’t get out of, they fight all the time, and they don’t have sex. Sounds lot like our marriage to me._

It had taken every ounce of Danny’s self-control not to laugh at that sentence. They _had_ had sex though—that was their problem. Or at least part of it. 

He finished brushing his teeth and switched off the bathroom light before hobbling back out to the bed to find that the ice bucket was nothing but water. He thought about making his way back to the ice machine, but the thought of walking that far on his ankle was less than appealing.

Of course, if his partner had actually stuck around instead of going out to get laid, Danny wouldn’t have to go to the ice machine. The person responsible for the injury could’ve done it for him. 

Then again, he’d told Steve to go. Twice. Couldn’t really fault the guy. 

Unbidden, a memory surfaced of a night Rachel had been sick and Danny had offered to stay at home instead of going to a poker game. She’d told him to go, and even though she’d looked miserable, he’d gone. It wasn’t like he could do a lot for her, he’d reasoned at the time.

Suddenly he understood why she’d snapped at him for three days after. 

Great, he was becoming a girl. Fantastic. Could this trip get any better?

He put his foot back on the pillow and immediately hissed at the cold. The bed had extras, but why should he suffer? He managed to put the wet pillow on Steve’s bed and grab a dry one without too much weight on his foot, and then settled into the bed to try to sleep.

***

_He’d never really thought about what it might be like, being in bed with Steve. If he had, he’d have expected the intensity, the way Steve seemed to need to know every single inch of Danny’s body, the way he—_

A crash woke Danny. 

“Whoopsie.”

Of course. “You’re a former Navy SEAL,” Danny said, rolling over to direct his words toward the bathroom. “What happened to stealth mode?”

“I’m sorry.”

Great, Steve was clearly drunk, between the whispering and the ‘whoopsie.’ Drunk Steve, that was just what Danny needed to be pulled out of a dream like that with. 

How was this his life?

“You awake?”

Seriously…. “You don’t have to whisper now. No, I’m not awake, I’m asleep, you putz.”

“Did you see the photos I sent you?”

“Yeah, I saw the photos you sent me,” Danny said, because some things he couldn’t unsee.

“We had fun.”

 _No kidding._ “Yeah, you looked like you guys were having a great time.”

“The girls were really bummed you didn’t make it.”

 _Oh, I’m sure they noticed I was missing with you there. Not._ “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know what to tell ‘em.”

 _That you’re an ass?_ “You could’ve told them that you destroyed my entire weekend. I hope you know that. I hope you’re happy.”

Steve walked around between the beds. “That’s the second time this month that ankle’s given out on you. It’s not the ankle, Danny. We both know this trip never had a chance from the start.”

 _The hell?_ “Oh, yeah? What was that supposed to mean? I’m just curious.”

“What do I mean by that? I’m talking about your attitude. I’m talking about this black hole of negative energy that is Detective Danny Williams. I just brought us out here to try to have some fun, reconnect a little bit, get away from work for a minute, and you’re just—you’ve been down on this thing from the start.”

 _Right, he wanted to reconnect, that’s why he’d planned all sorts of things that had nothing to do with them reconnecting._ “Well, for good reason, apparently, it turns out, right?”

Steve sighed dramatically and flopped back onto the bed. “You ever hear of the power of positive thinking, Danny? Yeah, well, it works the other way, too. It’s the power of negative thinking. Bad things happen to negative people. See example 1A—you.”

Seriously? Really, seriously? “How is—you basically crippled me going after this girl, and somehow it’s my fault?”

“Loraine said we’re not allowed to go to bed unless we resolve our arguments, all right? So fine. I’m sorry, okay?”

Which Danny had known, but it felt good to hear it. “Okay.”

“Okay, good, because my head has a date with this medium firm goose down.”

Danny went back over Steve’s words, turning them over in his head. “Let me ask you a serious question,” Danny said, propping himself up on his elbow. “You really think I’m that negative?” There was no answer from the other bed. “Steve? Steven?”

The answer that time was a loud snore—Steve was out cold. 

Bastard.

***

The sound of a hair dryer forced Steve awake, though he’d been fighting it through quite a few banging noises in the bathroom for a while. He had a hellacious headache, and Danny wasn’t exactly being stealthy.

Though it might be possible, just maybe, Steve thought, that he deserved it. He’d been liberal with the alcohol last night, for a lot of reasons, none of which he wanted to look at too closely. He’d also been liberal with his thoughts when he’d gotten back to the room. 

“Oh good,” Danny said loudly, walking out of the bathroom. “You’re up.”

“No,” Steve said, pulling a pillow over his head. “I am not up.” 

“Yes, you are.” The pillow disappeared, Danny’s face peering down at Steve. “You’re up, because we have to be downstairs in twenty minutes, and you smell like a bar.”

Steve sniffed, then wrinkled his nose. Danny was right. “Fine,” Steve said, throwing off the covers, “but we’re stopping for coffee on the way”

***

Steve listened to one of the other couples hashing out their issues, not really listening to the words so much as listening for anything that might require him to suddenly look like he had been paying attention.

Then Loraine called on Danny, and Steve braced himself, wincing inwardly as Danny said he thought the whole thing was stupid. Really, the guy needed lessons in how to get out of therapy. 

“I don’t know when it became so important to overanalyze everything in our lives, to talk about everything in our relationships, okay?” Danny said. “You guys love each other. That’s enough to me. All right? You are there for her, she is there for you. That’s commitment, right?” 

The description sounded a lot like their relationship, if Steve really thought about it. “But this? Everybody’s poking at everybody. Poke, poke, poke, it’s like an open wound. And eventually, what you’re gonna do is say something that you cannot take back. You’re chipping away at all the good and at the end of the day there’s gonna be nothing left but the bad.” 

Steve wondered if that was really what Danny thought about their therapy sessions, given how much he bitched in them. 

“And then let me tell you what happens. You are sitting alone in a one-bedroom apartment putting a futon together for your daughter coming over every Wednesday night. You got pizza on speed dial—bad pizza—okay, and that’s not a place that you wanna be. Please. Trust me.” 

It was exactly where Danny had been when he and Steve first met. Steve had just never heard Danny talk about it that way, not exactly. He’d certainly never heard it as a cautionary tale to save marriages. 

He needed to get out of there, needed to get Danny out of there—hell, he almost felt like he needed to check Danny for open wounds after that. He made some kind of smart remark, not even really knowing what he said, he was so focused on Danny’s words, but it worked. Loraine called for a break. 

Before Steve could say anything, Danny had hobbled off to the bathroom and shut himself in a stall.

So much for not licking your wounds in private, then.

***

Danny might not have wanted to talk about it, but Steve couldn’t get Danny’s rant out of his head. The juxtaposition of Danny, who wanted to talk about everything, with the guy who was saying that he didn’t get the need to overanalyze was so off that Steve wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

The most ironic part is that Steve would go right along with Danny’s complaint about overanalyzing, and yet Danny was the one who’d made Steve realize that sometimes you have no choice but to talk about things.

Okay, so Steve was still good at procrastinating at _having_ the talk, but knowing was the first step, right?

He can’t get it out of his head, though, even as he’s texting Alissa about plans for the night. Danny was sitting on the bed, foot up, staring at the wall as Steve put down the phone. “Alissa and her friend invited us to dinner,” Steve said. “You should come this time.”

Danny shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. You go.” Danny stood up carefully. “I’m going to go get some dinner here. Have fun. And try not to wake me up this time, all right?”

Steve watched Danny go, a slow, heaviness to his gait that was more than just the limp from his ankle. Steve had vague memories of Danny walking like that early on in their partnership, when he’d still been in that rat hole of an apartment waiting for his few hours with Grace. 

Whatever Steve had thought this weekend might bring, it hadn’t been the return of that.

His phone buzzed, and Steve checked to see the address of the restaurant in the text from Alissa. He sent back a note that he’d see her there and went to get ready. He couldn’t get Danny’s walk out of his mind, though, no matter how hard he tried. 

Maybe he should stay. But Danny had told him to go, to have fun. Then again…Danny wouldn’t ask him to stay. It wasn’t how Danny was built. And running away sure as hell wouldn’t get him any closer to an answer about what happened That Night.

Steve went back into the other room and picked up his phone. _Something came up, can’t go, sorry,_ he texted Alissa. 

That done, Steve pocketed his phone and went to find his partner.

***

Steve checked all the indoor restaurants before he found Danny beside the pool, a half-eaten burger in front of him. “What's up, good-lookin'?" Steve said as he approached the table.

The waiter was quick to jump in to help with a, “Can I get you something?” before Steve even sat down. 

"Hey, buddy. Can I, uh...I'll just have what he's having. And a big glass of water. "

"Sure thing,” the waiter said. “Coming up."

"Lots of water,” Steve added, because his headache still hadn’t quite gone away. “Keep it coming."

The waiter nodded. "You got it," he said as he walked away.

Steve sat down, glancing over at Danny. "Hey.”

“Thought you were gonna see Alissa," Danny said.

"Uh, yeah, I was,” Steve said, looking around, feeling awkward now that he’d decided to stay. “But I, uh... you know, I blew it off to, uh... to come and hang with you instead."

"You didn't have to do that. I'm fine."

Which wasn’t really the point, but…. "Well, I didn't do it for you. No, look, you see all these people, all these nice people sitting around? You know how much money they spent to have this dream vacation experience? I personally don't think it's fair that their experience be marred by the sight of a gimpy-ankled man sitting here eating a $20 hamburger by himself. It's just not right. So, you know, for their sake, enjoy my company."

"See, I thought you were just concerned for me."

The look on Danny’s face made it clear he knew that was the case, but Steve denied it. "Nope." 

The waiter interrupted with Steve’s water. When he was gone, Danny said, "You wanna hear something crazy? I don't know how crazy it is, but... when Rachel and I started having our problems, she suggested that we go see a marriage counselor together. I, of course, said no. I figured, look, we got problems, we'll figure it out ourselves. But, uh, we never did that, did we?"

"Well, you think therapy would've saved your marriage? 

Danny shook his head. “No, probably not. You know, we had a lot of problems, some hers, some mine, but the point is, is that she was willing to do whatever it took to save our family, I guess maybe I wasn't. And that kind of sticks with me, you know?"

Danny’s need to talk everything out didn’t seem quite so at odds with his dislike of overanalyzing now. Losing something that meant that much to you could change your habits, even if it didn’t change your opinion.

But that Danny could even think for a moment he hadn’t moved heaven and earth for his family was just wrong. On so many levels. "You left everything so that Gracie would have a father in her life. And still you question your commitment to your family. Don't do it. No one can question your commitment to your family."

"I know. I just... You know, it's hard not to think about the fact that things maybe could’ve been different had I gone to see that counselor with her. I don't know."

The last thing Steve wanted was to get Danny further down the Rachel road after everything. "Things would've been different, maybe you would never have met me—how about that?"

"One can dream."

"Yeah, well, I got to tell you, man. Your ankle aside, look around you right now, I mean, there are... there are much worse places a failed marriage could land you. You got to admit it. Look at this place."

"Yeah. No. I agree. My failed marriage brings me to Hawaii, and my dysfunctional relationship with you brings me here. We even screwed this up."

"Yeah, we didn't get that right, either. 

Danny agreed quickly. “Didn't get this right.”

But Steve didn’t want to go down the negative road either. “Where's my burger? I'm starving, man."

"Here, have half of this. I'll eat your other half."

"I feel my stomach eating itself."

"Have that one."

Steve thanked him and took a bite, pausing as he realized just how good it was.

"It's good, huh?" Danny said.

"This is the best hamburger I ever had in my life."

"Worth the 25 bucks."

"It's unbelievable,” Steve said. “This place really has everything."

Danny started talking about the soap, which led to Steve essentially holding Danny’s hand and feeling his way up Danny’s arm. The strange familiarity of something he didn’t remember doing brought back his other reason for being here. 

But it wasn’t exactly a conversation they could have by the pool. So Steve kept it light as his hamburger finally arrived and he and Danny split it. They talked about sports and all sorts of other things, and it was so close to normal that Steve started thinking maybe it wasn’t a good time to bring up That Night.

But no. He had to. They had to get past whatever had happened—if, indeed, anything had. Deep down, Danny felt like he let his marriage down, and he doesn’t want to lose anyone else without trying. If Steve didn’t have the conversation about That Night, he’d be doing exactly that. 

He might need some extra courage, though. He switched from water to beer as they watched the sun go down, and by the time they went up to the room, Steve was feeling pleasantly buzzed. He let Danny shower first, then went himself. It was only as he was slowing almost to a crawl while finishing up in the bathroom that he realized he was just stalling.

Steve steeled himself and went into the next room, half hoping Danny was asleep. The lights were out, but he could still see well enough to see Danny’s eyes were open. 

Steve pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, but he didn’t lay down. This was it. He wasn’t going to get a better chance than this.

“Hey, Danny?”

“Yeah?”

Steve cleared his throat, looking at Danny’s hands where they rested on the comforter. “That night that Catherine left…I…the next morning when I woke up, I…” _Oh this is going well, Steve, you idiot. Man up._ “I don’t really remember all of that night.”

Danny was silent so long that Steve thought e might’ve been asleep, but then Danny cleared his throat. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay. Or was there a question somewhere?”

"I don't remember that night,” Steve said. “Or at least not all of it. And I need to know...."

"What, Steve?” Danny sounded tired. “What do you need to know?"

"I need to know what happened," Steve said. "I need you to tell me if...I need you to just tell me nothing happened."

"Which is it?" Danny asked, sitting up. "You want me to tell you _what_ happened, or you want me to tell you _nothing_ happened?"

"I need the truth."

Danny snorted. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

 _Want? No. Need? Apparently._ ”Yes.”

Danny took a long breath and let it out slowly. “Okay,” he said. After another breath, he continued. “We were drinking the whiskey and playing Truth or Dare. And about six glasses in—well, seven, if you count the one you spilled all over yourself trying to prove that you could, in fact, put your ankles behind your head. Which, by the way, you cannot.”

“Anyway,” Danny said, “I chose dare. And you dared me to kiss you. I’m not one to back away from a dare, so I did. And then…I don’t know. We were upstairs and naked before I even had a clear thought in my head, and when I tried to stop, you wouldn’t let me.” Danny’s soft laugh didn’t hold much humor. “Not that I was all that keen on stopping anyway.”

Steve didn’t know how to react—both to the fact that he’d been the one to instigate it, and to the fact that all those flashes in his dream were real. Or at least based in reality. And what he remembered had been good. Damn good. He just wished he remembered more.

But that didn’t exactly clear the air with Danny. 

“Look,” Danny said, “I should’ve said something. I didn’t mean to keep it from you, but you didn’t seem to remember, no matter how many hints I threw at you, and I wasn’t sure if you really didn’t remember, or you just didn’t want to, and I’d have to be about ten kinds of an asshole to shove it in your face if it was the latter.”

So all those things he'd been wondering if they were hints...they were. The underwear, the toothbrush, Danny's pointed comments, the whiskey…. All of it. And Danny had been driving himself a little crazy, clearly, trying to decide if Steve knew or not. 

That he couldn’t trust Steve enough to know if he was lying wasn’t very flattering for a best friend. 

“Danny…I’m sorry.”

Danny waved a hand. “There’s nothing to apologize for. We both needed something, and we took it. We’re partners. It’s what we do, right?” He laughed that weird laugh again. “Okay, this might be a little extreme by most partner standards, but then when have we ever been normal partners?”

Steve wondered what Danny had needed. Sex? Maybe…. He could ask, but he might have used up his nerve for this kind of conversation for the night. 

Or maybe he just didn’t want to know.

He also wasn’t sure he wanted to know what Danny meant, exactly, by them not being ‘normal’ partners. He ignored the tiny voice in the corner of his brain that said he knew because he’d had more than enough self-discovery for one night. Like finding out that he really had slept with Danny.

Even if he couldn’t remember it, he couldn’t forget that it was a fact now. 

“You’re wrong,” Steve said. 

“About what?”

“About there being nothing to apologize for. I knew there was a possibility, and I wondered if you were hinting at it, but I was afraid to ask. And made you feel like you had to keep it a secret in the process. And I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah, and I could’ve said something outright instead of throwing vague hints at you, too.” Danny’s hands were picking at the comforter now. “So if there needed to be an apology, it would go both ways.”

Danny didn’t add an apology at the end, so Steve supposed that was his answer as to whether it was needed. “Fair enough,” Steve said after a moment. 

“Good.” Danny laid back down and turned onto his side, leaving Steve staring at his back. “Now go to sleep. Our flight is early and I need my beauty rest.”

Steve huffed out a laugh and laid down, staring at the ceiling as he listened for Danny’s breathing to slow into sleep.

It never really did. 

***


	12. Chapter 12

The day was a blur. 

Steve remembered walking calmly back downstairs, pulling Mary out of the kitchen and telling her quietly. The damp spot on his shirt had long since dried, but he could see the faint outline every time he looked in a mirror. 

But after that, it was a blur. No, more like defining moments with long blurs in between, and no clues as to how much time passed in the blur. 

He’d made a call to the funeral home, holding Mary with one arm, but at some point Mary had decided Joanie didn’t need to see any of this and taken her out to the ocean. The urge to follow had been strong—the ocean one of the few safe havens in his life. But he couldn’t be safe right now, couldn’t hide or avoid. 

There were people to take care of. 

He’d walked Deb out, through the door one last time—no matter how much he tried, that thought wouldn’t go away, refused to be buried in the blurs of the day. He’d talked to the funeral director and made arrangements to come in the next day, but the specifics were a blur. A quick check of his phone showed the time and address, which was all he really needed to know. 

He’d fielded calls from his team, including three from Danny, but had told them all not to come over. He still wasn’t sure why. Food had magically appeared at the door, though, the sources obvious if he looked at the Hawaiian staples and the pepperoni pizza on the kitchen island. 

He managed a piece of pizza just to shut Mary up—and make her eat herself. The lack of ties to home made it the only palatable thing in the spread. He knew he said goodnight to Joan, but the evening was just more of a blur until he and Mary were sitting on the couch, staring out through the dining room at the ocean.

Mary’s head was on his shoulder, but she stirred eventually, sitting up, placing her hand on his shoulder instead. “I think I’m gonna go get some sleep,” she said, standing up. “What about you?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll go up later.” 

“Have you talked to Danny?”

“Yeah.” Steve kept staring out at the ocean. “He called a few times.”

She made that noise he always associated with every time he took his GI Joes away from her. “I didn’t ask if he called. I asked if you talked to him.”

Steve looked up at her. “I did. When he called.”

“For five seconds.” When he continued to just look at her, she made that noise again, and he could have sworn she stomped her foot. “Joan is asleep, and I’m about to be. There’s nobody left to take care of, Steve. Not tonight.”

Steve shrugged. “He’s probably taking the kids back to Rachel’s.”

Mary picked up Steve’s phone from the table and looked at it. “It’s almost ten. I’m betting they had to be home hours ago.”

By eight, he knew, but he didn’t answer. 

“And oh, look, he’s called three times since nine.” She held the phone out. “Call him.” At his look, she rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, do you know you made that same face every time Mom tried to get you to take medicine when you were a kid?”

Steve sighed. “Fine.” He took the phone. “I’ll call when you go to bed.”

“I’ll go to bed when you call.”

They stared at each other for several seconds before Mary finally shook her head. “Fine. I’ll go. But if I find out in the morning you didn’t talk to him….”

He didn’t stoop to the juvenile response. He’d won, that was enough. He stood up, pulling her into a hug and giving her a kiss on the top of her head. “Goodnight, Mare.”

“Night.”

He watched her until she disappeared into her room, closing the door behind her. Once she was gone, he stared down at the missed calls for a long time before clicking Danny’s picture to pull up the contact window and hit text. 

_You up?_

Danny’s response was quick. _Yeah. Got cold beer. Want some?_

Steve looked up at Mary’s closed door, torn. Her words replayed in his head. _There’s nobody left to take care of, Steve. Not tonight._

He tapped his reply on the phone. _otw_

That done, he turned to the door then stopped, hand on the knob, making a decision. He went back into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of whiskey Danny had given him at Christmas and headed for the door.

***

Steve walked up to Danny’s door and raised his hand to knock, but he couldn’t quite manage. He should go home. Joan would be up early, and Mary would need help with her, and then they’d have the funeral home to go to, and he really needed—

The door opened, Danny standing on the other side. “You, uh…you forget how to knock?”

The tone as much as Danny’s expression—fond, concerned—threatened to break the dam Steve had built in his head. “Nope,” Steve said. “I was just about to, but apparently you couldn’t wait.”

“Whatever.” Danny’s tone was still warm, as was his hand when he wrapped it around Steve’s arm. “Come in.” 

Steve took a seat on the couch as Danny closed the door. “You want a beer?” Danny asked.

“Actually,” Steve held out the bottle of whiskey. “I thought this might be more appropriate.”

Danny wet his lips, pausing for a second before he smiled. “Good call.” He took the bottle and put it on the coffee table before going to the kitchen, returning with two glasses. He sat down and poured generously into each glass before handing one to Steve.

“How are Mary and Joan?”

Steve took a drink before he shrugged. “Joan doesn’t understand what’s going on. Mary is…Mary.”

“Stunning revelation there, Steven.”

Steve huffed out something resembling a laugh. “Mary’s a lot tougher than she looks,” he said. He took another drink. “In some ways she handled Mom’s death better than I did.” There was that weird laugh again. “And Mom’s return from the dead, come to think of it.”

“Now there’s a statement you don’t hear every day.” Danny took a long drink. A drop of whiskey landed on his bottom lip, and he licked it off, the site making Steve’s own mouth go dry. 

It was the stupid dreams, the ones he couldn’t stop, no matter what he did, or who went out with. They were making him crazy. He had phantom memories of the way Danny’s mouth felt and tasted, only he wasn’t sure what was memory and what was imagination.

But he wasn’t going to find out, so wondering was useless.

“So how are you doing?” Danny asked.

“Fine.”

Danny took a long drink, watching Steve carefully over the rim of the glass. “You wanna maybe try that answer again, only this time some truth to it?”

“I am fine. That’s the truth.”

Steve knew that look. That was Danny’s ‘that perp’s story smells like shit’ look. “I will give you the benefit,” Danny said after a moment, “of saying that I realize you think you’re fine. However, I would’ve thought by now that you’d have enough self-awareness to know somewhere in that messed up brain of yours that it’s not actually true.”

“Danny—“

“Well, okay,” Danny interrupted. “You’re fine in the sense that you can function like a robot, and take care of everyone else, and think you’re handling it with that McGarrett stoic manliness that you’re so proud of.” He took a drink. “But I am here to tell you, Steven, that you are not actually a robot. And you are not fine. You are not, and you shouldn’t be. Not after today.”

Steve took a deep breath that rattled in his lungs. “Okay, fine. I’m not fine. Is that what you want to hear?” Steve got up, drink still in hand, and started pacing. “I went to wake Deb up this morning, and she was alive. She smiled at me, and then…she was gone.” He took a drink. “She was just gone. Just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Gone.”

He swallowed hard against that thing felt like it was trying to crawl its way out of his throat. “And I’m tired,” he said, standing still now, looking at Danny as if he had an explanation or a cure or…something. “I’m tired of losing people. And I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Steve closed his eyes and stood there, drained, feeling wetness slipping out of his eyes despite his best attempts to hold it back. He opened his eyes and looked at Danny again, still not sure what he was looking for.

Danny got up and put his drink down, crossing the room slowly until he reached Steve. He didn’t stop, though, he kept moving, pressing against Steve and putting his arms around him. Steve wrapped his arms around Danny in return and held on, taking deep breaths and trying to pull himself together. 

“You can’t stop it,” Danny said, his voice muffled against Steve’s chest. “It sucks, I know.” 

Danny pulled back just enough to look up at Steve. “It sucks,” Danny said again. “But it’s life. You can’t stop it. You just have to find ways to deal with it.”

“I have plenty of coping—“

“No, you’re not listening.” Danny’s voice was soft and kind, but his eyes were intense as they held Steve’s, as if willing him to get it. “I didn’t say cope. I said deal with it.”

The words made sense, but Steve didn’t want to deal with that any more than he wanted to deal with another loss. He wanted—needed—distraction. Or something. 

Danny was still looking at him with that intensity, so close, his hands on Steve’s waist, and various dreams flew through Steve’s brain on fast forward, so many things he’d been trying to ignore and forget. 

It was such a bad idea. The voice in his head kept saying that on repeat, over and over as Steve leaned down to capture Danny’s lips. 

Such a bad idea. It didn’t stop him from pulling Danny closer, from discovering that the taste of Danny’s mouth was even better than his dreams had let on. He wondered how the rest of Danny tasted, even as that voice was still chanting what a bad idea this was. 

It was sympathy on Danny’s part. And Danny had a girlfriend—even though they didn’t seem to be all that serious, given their lack of time together, and, well, Danny’s tongue currently in Steve’s mouth. 

They couldn’t blame the alcohol this time, though. Neither of them had had nearly enough.

Then again, maybe the alcohol was to blame. Maybe it hadn’t been Danny’s attempt to jog Steve’s memory so much as an invitation. 

And maybe, just maybe, this would get the dreams out of Steve’s head and give him peace. 

Danny seemed completely on board with the whole thing, if the way he was trying to climb Steve up Steve and down his throat at the same time was any indication. 

Really, if he couldn’t take something he wanted on a night like this, then when could he?

Steve pushed Danny back without letting go, guiding him towards the bedroom. He didn't stop until they hit the bed, the sudden obstacle tumbling them onto the bed. That worked just fine for Steve—anything that got them horizontal worked for him, and that he didn’t really have to let go of Danny was a bonus.

Danny’s hands were everywhere, pushing Steve’s shirt up, hands hot on Steve’s skin, then dipping down into Steve’s pants and gripping his ass. At least one of the things from his dreams was real—Danny’s hands were as amazing as he’d dreamed and then some. 

Steve wanted everything and wanted it all at once. He let Danny’s mouth go with reluctance to taste his way down Danny’s jaw to his neck. Salty and hot, with a taste that he didn’t so much recognize as know instinctively. Which made no sense, but—

“Fuck!” Steve hissed, as Danny had managed to slip a hand between them and gripped Steve’s cock through his pants. Steve pushed into Danny’s hand, even as he continued his path down to Danny’s shoulder. 

Danny’s t-shirt was an annoying barrier, and Steve tugged on the collar until he couldn’t move it any further. “Off,” he muttered against Danny’s collar bone, tugging at the shirt. “Off!”

The world tilted and Steve found himself on his back, Danny straddling his lap, a wild grin on his face a moment before it disappeared behind fabric. It returned a second later, as Danny tossed his shirt off to the side. 

Steve took a moment to appreciate the sight and remember how to breathe. Danny was built, that much Steve had known from days of surfing, but he’d never touched, at least not outside of his dreams, or not that he could remember. 

He licked his lips, watching as Danny’s eyes darkened, the smile softening into something softer and yet far more exciting. Steve lifted slightly shaky hands, letting them rest on Danny’s stomach, the combination of hard muscle, soft skin and even softer hair a feeling he would most definitely never get out of his head now.

He’d enjoyed checking out the benefits of Danny’s artisanal soap in Maui a little more than he should’ve, a chance to feel Danny’s skin, to have something tactile to go with the dreams, but this…this was another level of heaven and hell all at once. 

Steve’s hands stuttered their way up Danny’s chest. Danny’s hiss when Steve brushed over his nipples sent an answering shudder through Steve’s body. He was so focused on the feeling of Danny under his hands that he was surprised when Danny tugged, pulling Steve up into a seated position.

He wasn’t complaining, though. Not when their cocks brushed through fabric, and not when Danny’s heat was so close. And he especially wasn’t complaining when his shirt got pulled up and over his head and tossed in the direction of Danny’s. 

Danny pulled him into a kiss, and Steve thrust up at the first press of their chests with nothing between them. Fuck…his dreams were nowhere near this good, leaving him with a question—was the first time really this good and he didn’t remember, or was it better now when he was more here, and less out of his mind with alcohol?

Danny’s hands had made their way between his body and Steve’s again, this time working at buttons and zippers. They managed some rather acrobatic moves to get their pants off without completely letting each other go, and then they were naked and pressed together.

The feel of their cocks together with nothing between them anymore was a revelation, one Steve wasn’t sure he needed. The dreams had been difficult enough to banish. He wasn’t sure how he was going to get rid of the memory of this.

Or that he wanted to let the memory go in the first place.

Danny took them both in hand, his hand slick with something Steve hadn’t even noticed Danny reaching for. He didn’t care, either, as long as Danny kept that tight grip around them, kept kissing Steve, and kept thrusting, in time with Steve, of course—they were always in sync, that was something that didn’t change anywhere, anytime.

Every feeling was so sharp—whether because it was in contrast to all the dreams or just because it was Danny, Steve wasn’t sure. Didn’t really want to think about it, either. He focused on every single second, committing it to memory, reality to ground him when the dreams plagued him at night. 

He’d know what was real and what wasn’t now, dammit. There’d be no guessing anymore.

It was going so fast, though, his body responding like he hadn’t had sex in years, pushing towards and ending he both wanted and dreaded. He couldn’t help himself, though, couldn’t stop pushing harder and faster, until he spilled over Danny’s hand, regaining his wits just quick enough to enjoy it when Danny stiffened and came, sending a new set of aftershocks through Steve’s body.

Steve let the rhythm of Danny’s breathing slow his own, matching him breath for breath, lying there with Danny covering him making him feel comfortable instead of trapped. His hands wandered up and down Danny’s back, slick with sweat, as he breathed Danny’s scent in, breaths coming slower and slower. 

Just another minute and he’d move. He needed to go home so he’d be there in the morning for Mary. So he’d get up and move. In just a minute.

***

Steve climbed reluctantly out of dreams of Danny, fighting consciousness and the loss. He had no say in the matter, as usual, but it wasn’t as bad as usual when he woke up to find himself pressed against Danny’s side, one arm and leg thrown over Danny, who slept soundly beside him.

So much better than a dream, but how was he supposed to relegate it back to dreams now? Even with the dreams, he hadn’t known he’d wanted this. Still wasn’t sure it was this he wanted so much as the connection, and the distraction from life. 

He should go before this got more awkward than it was already going to be if Danny woke up. 

But then…Danny leaving was what had caused the awkwardness for months before. And Danny hadn’t exactly been complaining earlier. He’d been a more than willing participant. 

Leaving could destroy them for good.

Besides, he didn’t really want to. Not when he felt like he could sleep for once, and not on a night when he really needed the sleep to deal with the days ahead.

He pressed his face closer to Danny, inhaling deeply as he dropped back into sleep.

***

The sun was starting to light the room when Steve woke again. He stretched, enjoying the feel of Danny’s skin moving against his. The movement made Danny stir, his eyes blinking open, a slow smile growing on his face as he woke. “I gotta say,” Danny started, and Steve did his best to quell his reaction to Danny’s morning voice, “I kind of expected an empty bed when I woke up.”

“Sorry,” Steve said. 

He started to roll onto his back, but Danny stopped him, his arms strong. “That wasn’t a complaint,” Danny said. 

“I….” Steve cleared his throat. “I mean, this….” 

“Hey.” Danny’s voice was as soft as his eyes. “Weren’t you listening last time? We’re partners. One of us needs something, the other one is there.”

Not the most flattering presentation of what happened, and Steve didn’t miss the difference from last time. Before, Danny had said, ‘We both needed something.’ This time it was ‘One of us.’

Still, he didn’t look sorry about anything. That, and Danny’s calm acceptance of this as nothing out of the ordinary, was what Steve needed to put this into perspective. 

“Got it,” Steve said, giving him a smile. 

“Good.” Danny smiled as if that made everything right. “Just don’t forget it.”

Steve wasn’t sure if that was a dig at That Night or just a command for now, but he nodded. “I should probably go,” Steve said. 

“I could make breakfast first.”

The thought of breakfast reminded Steve of the morning before. Shit, had it been almost twenty-four hours already? How was that possible? “Thanks,” Steve said, rolling onto his back and out of Danny’s arms. “But I want to be home when Mary wakes up so she doesn’t worry. Y’know, given everything….”

“Yeah,” Danny said softly. “I get it.”

From his look, Steve thought maybe Danny got more than Steve did, but he couldn’t think about that now, couldn’t deal with anything beyond taking care of things today. Taking care of Mary and Joan.

Taking care of Deb.

Steve got up and tracked down his clothes around the bed. Danny’s gaze was like a tangible thing, following every move, and still on Steve when he looked at the bed once he was dressed. 

He looked down at Danny, his hair wild, his eyes still sleepy and that mouth…god, that mouth and the things it could do, things Steve wasn’t going to be able to forget and relegate to dreams this time. 

He’d think about that later. 

“Thanks,” he said.

“For what?” 

Too many things for Steve to list. “Everything?”

Danny just laughed at that. “I’ll come by later?” 

Steve nodded, smiling at him once more before turning and walking out the door.

***

Steve closed the door to his house behind him as quietly as he could, watching the lock and turning the knob only after it was flush to avoid a click. 

“You know,” Mary’s voice sounded from behind him, “this reminds me of the time I caught you sneaking back in after you’d snuck out to meet Melinda Green in the ninth grade.”

Shit. Steve took a deep breath, put on a blank face, and turned to find her leaning against the door to the kitchen. “And good morning to you, too,” Steve said. “I had a few drinks at Danny’s, so I decided to sleep there instead of driving home.”

“Right,” she said, arms folded over her chest. “Of course you did.”

She wasn’t buying it, clearly, but she wasn’t calling him out on it either, and he felt a surge of affection for her. He had more than enough going on as it was—he didn’t need her forcing him to look too closely at things he wasn’t even sure about himself.

He’d be doing plenty of that soon enough.

“I was just about to start breakfast,” she said. “If you shower quickly, and you’re nice, I’ll even let you back seat cook.”

How could he refuse an offer like that? 

He started towards the stairs. “I’ll be back down before you can burn the first pancake.” 

***


	13. Chapter 13

Danny turned the page on the case file in front of him, but the words didn’t register any more than the last page had. He couldn’t focus. His brain kept going elsewhere. 

Just across the hall, in fact. 

He looked up to see Steve getting up from his desk and heading down towards the kitchen. He looked…okay. Not happy. Not content. But not the mess he’d been the other night at Danny’s house, either.

A lesser man would read something into the fact that Steve kept turning to him every time he lost someone, but Danny couldn’t. After all, who else was Steve going to turn to but his best friend? They did whatever the other one needed, no questions asked, no thanks needed. It was who they were. End of story. 

And the two of them were tactile with each other on a normal day. That extreme loss would push that to an extreme level wasn’t exactly a surprise. Danny had been surprised to find Steve still in the bed the next morning though. Surprised and grateful. It made things a lot less awkward, somehow, than the last time. 

The lack of awkwardness had made it easy for Danny to stand close to Steve at Deb’s memorial service. To put his hand on Steve’s arm as he made sure Steve didn’t want Danny to go with them up the mountain. To keep an eye on Steve over the next few days and make sure he was okay.

Not that he thought Steve would fall apart. No, normal people fell apart. Super SEAL just knitted himself up tighter, as if falling apart would be the worst sin imaginable, until he was wound so tight that no one could get near him.

Danny wouldn’t let that happen.

Danny’s door opened, Chin stopping just inside the doorway. “Got a second?”

“Sure.” 

“The waves are amazing up at the North Shore right now,” Chin said. “What do you say we talk Kono and Steve into a surfing trip tomorrow?”

Chin might be the quiet one, but he didn’t miss much. “I think they both could use it,” Danny said.

“You want to bring it up, or you want me to?”

Danny laughed. “You do it. I bring it up, they’ll think we’re up to something.”

“We are up to something.”

“Yeah, but if you bring it up they won’t know it.”

***

They hadn’t suspected a thing, though Steve was a little surprised that Danny had agreed so readily. He kept stealing glances at Danny all the way up to the North Shore. 

“You understand the waves are really tall, right?” Steve asked. “I mean, I know all waves are tall for you, but these are extra tall.”

“I’m not a novice, Steven,” Danny said. “I can handle it.”

“This from the guy who said he was never going to learn to surf.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve tried a lot of new things since I moved here.”

The words were a little too close to talking about things between them—just because they weren’t awkward didn’t mean they’d so much as hinted at the fact that they’d slept together. Again. 

But Steve didn’t seem bothered. “Yeah, but you usually bitch more about it.”

“Surfing isn’t something new anymore. Why would I bitch?”

“Sunshine? Skin cancer? Sand everywhere? Water?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Do me a favor and pull over so I can ride the rest of the way in the trunk away from you.”

Which, inexplicably, made Steve smile. “Now that sounds more like Danny Williams.”

***

The smiles on both Steve and Kono’s faces after the first few waves settled something in Danny’s chest. Steve’s smile, in particular, was good to see, just days removed from saying goodbye to the last McGarrett family member from that particular generation.

He could swear Steve was even walking more loosely, limbs hanging by his sides like a normal human instead of the stiff military robot he’d started to mimic 24/7. Not that it had stopped Steve from being super-protective—for all that Steve made it sound like a joke that he kept jumping on Danny’s waves in case something happened, Danny suspected that had more truth to it than Steve wanted to admit, even to himself. 

Considering the height of some of those waves, Danny was a little more okay with it than he let on.

And while Danny often tried to curtail Steve’s insane competitive streak, he couldn’t this time, not with Steve clearly so delighted about it. So he jumped into the car, bitching all the way--his own little payback for Steve’s insanity.

For all their lack of awkwardness about the sex they’d had, Danny still had a moment’s pause about whipping out his dick to take a leak at a million miles per hour, and not just for the potential spill factor. He realized he was being completely stupid, given that even before they’d ever had sex, Steve had seen him naked plenty of times.

Being Steve’s partner was a dirty job, which involved a ridiculous amount of showers in the HQ locker rooms. 

***

Danny wasn’t surprised that Chin and Kono hadn’t made it back first, not with Steve’s driving. But when they’d both had time to shower and change, and Chin and Kono still hadn’t made it back, it seemed a little odd. 

Not odd enough to worry, not when Steve had said they’d be midnight getting home if they took a wrong turn.

Steve opened the door to Danny’s office, staring at his phone. When he didn’t say anything, Danny prompted with a, “What’s up?”

“You hear from Chin or Kono yet?”

“No. Why?”

“‘Cause they’re not answering their phones and they should’ve been here by now.”

Which Danny had just been telling himself was not a reason to worry. “Maybe they had car trouble.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, coming further into the room, “but why wouldn’t they answer their phones?”

He was not jumping to the worst case conclusion, not with Steve’s little ‘Mr. Negativity’ lecture still stinging a part of his brain. “Well, that’s what I mean. You know, you warned them about those service roads. Maybe they got car trouble and they’ve got no signal up there.”

Steve thought about it for a second. “Yeah,” he said, not sounding sure at all as he turned around.

Okay, if both of them were actively trying not to worry, that made Danny worry. And given everything Steve had lost in a manner of months….

“Well if you’re worried about it, we’ll go up there,” Danny said. “We’ll drive up to the North Shore and find them.”

He could see Steve’s logic warring with his concern. Concern won. “You know what,” he said finally. “let’s do that.”

***

The irony of having to be the positive one in the car was not lost on Danny. But the longer they drove, the more pinched that line between Steve’s eyebrows became, and the tighter his jaw muscle got. Danny was starting to worry it might actually snap.

Reassurance only made it worse, so he fell back on their routine banter to try to bring some normalcy back. It worked, more or less, right up until they found Chin’s car, perfectly fine, and no sign of Chin or Kono. 

But there was another car.

Steve went to check out the second car, while Danny looked for any kind of clue to where they might’ve gone. He noticed faint grooves in the dirt nearby. A quick look showed they trailed off in the direction of the trees. “Steve!” 

When Steve joined him, Danny pointed. “Looks like something got dragged that way.”

He glanced at Steve, could tell he was thinking the same thing as Danny.

If it was a body, it better not be Chin or Kono’s.

***

They didn’t have to walk far before they heard voices. “Turn around!” a man said.

Danny started running, Steve right behind him. They saw Chin and Kono, two men behind them, raising their arms.

He didn’t have to think. He shot, just as Steve did, dropping both men in a second. A big hole in the ground, a body already inside, and the dirt on Chin and Kono everywhere told the tale of what happened, but not the why.

“How’d you end up here?” Danny asked, while Steve called HPD. 

Chin told the story while Kono looked as if she was going to fall over any second. Chin never looked at her, not that Danny saw, but he must have noticed, as he moved closer, putting his arm around her waist. 

When he finished the story, Danny jerked his head towards the cars. “Come on,” he said. “You guys look like you could use some water, and we still have a cooler in the car.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all afternoon,” Kono said with a hint of a smile. She moved out of Chin’s embrace and headed for the cars, Chin following close behind. 

Steve watched them go, and Danny knew that look, knew Steve was thinking if he hadn’t pushed that challenge, none of this would’ve happened. “Hey,” Danny said softly, nudging Steve’s arm with his own. “Good thing they came out this way, huh?”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, great thing—all their week needed was almost dying.”

“No, their detour brought two cop killers to justice, guys who would’ve gotten away with it if Chin and Kono hadn’t found them.”

After a moment, Steve nodded. “Yeah,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m almost there. Almost.”

Danny nudged him again. “Come on,” he said, nudging Steve in the direction of the cars this time. “I think there was more than water in that cooler.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “As long as it’s not the bottle you used on the way back.”

“I told you never to speak of that again.”

***

“I have to say,” Danny said as Steve pulled up to his house, “you were right.”

“Of course I was,” Steve replied. “About what?”

Danny shook his head. “You said those roads would make it midnight before we got home.” Danny nodded at the radio clock. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t expecting it to happen quite like that….”

“All’s well that ends well, right?” Danny said.

Steve took a deep breath and let it out in a rush. “Something like that,” he said as he put the car in neutral and pulled up the brake. “I’ll see you in the morning?” he said, hand on the door handle.

It was on the tip of Danny’s tongue, the words doing their best to fight their way out, to suggest he come in, have a drink, unwind a little, given everything that had happened. But he knew what those words really wanted, and that couldn’t happen. Not again. 

They hadn’t lost anyone. Everyone was safe and sound for tonight. That was enough. It had to be.

“Yeah,” Danny said, getting out of the car. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he added as he passed Steve behind the trunk.

He waited until Steve was inside, the door closed behind him, before putting the car in gear and driving away.

***


	14. Chapter 14

_Valentine’s Morning_

Steve watched Lynn get out of bed, admiring the view as she threw him a look over her shoulder before she shut the bathroom door. He stretched, his muscles aching in that way that told him they needed more of a workout—or, rather, a more varied one than he’d just gotten. 

Not that he was complaining about his recent workout. Or that he would complain about another round. Lynn was gorgeous and fun, and a great distraction from…well, from everything that constantly went on in his head despite his best attempts to stop it.

He genuinely liked her, too. And she seemed to like him, despite the fact that he’d nearly gotten her killed on their first date. Not a lot of people stuck around once that happened—Steve could really only think of three off the top of his head in his life, and one of them hadn’t really stuck around in the end.

The other was a completely different story, and one that he wasn’t thinking about in that context anymore. Couldn’t think about that way. 

The bathroom door opened, and Lynn stuck her head out. “Such a gentleman,” she said, giving him a smile. “Leaving a toothbrush out for me. Which one is mine?”

Steve froze for a second. “Uh…actually, the extra one is Danny’s.”

“Danny’s?” She blinked, coming back into the room. “As in your partner from work?”

 _Shit._ “Yeah, he, uh…we have weird hours and sometimes he stays, it’s, um…he used it and I just left it there. No point in breaking open a new one every time.” _Smooth, McGarrett. Very smooth. She’ll never think there’s anything weird there. Dumbass._

“Okay,” she said slowly, frowning. “Though I’m a little surprised it’s in your bathroom and not the guest one.” The frown cleared, some of her playfulness returning. “Unless, of course, he sleeps in here, too.”

Steve blanked his face as quickly as he could, but she was good at catching kids in lies, and she didn’t miss whatever was on his face the second before he went blank. 

“Okay,” she said in that same tone. “That’s not weird, right? That your partner would sleep in here?”

“What’s weird about it?” Steve asked, shrugging. “You’ve never had friends over?” _Oh yeah, that was totally not at all weird. Because guys always let their other guy friends sleep in their beds. Totally nothing to see there._

The frown was back. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“No,” Steve said. “Why?”

She frowned for another moment before shaking her head. “No reason,” she said, her smile returning. “Clearly I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Well then come back to bed and we can get even less sleep,” Steve said.

“Oh no.” Lynn turned back towards the bathroom. “I’m going to brush my teeth and then you need to feed me.” She turned back to smile at him again. “And then we can see about getting less sleep.”

“There are spare toothbrushes in the second drawer,” Steve said. 

“Thanks.” 

She closed the door, and he let out a long breath. He hadn’t really thought about what that toothbrush might look to anyone else, but then, he didn’t often think about that when it came to Danny. People looked at the two of them from the outside and got it wrong all the time, and they didn’t bother to explain because they couldn’t. There was no explanation, no box to put them in, no way to make others understand, especially when they didn’t try to understand it themselves.

They weren’t married, they weren’t a couple, they just…were. 

Lynn came back into the room and asked for a shirt. Steve was still distracted by the conversation about Danny, so it wasn’t until he saw the box in Lynn’s hand that he realized his mistake.

“Let me guess,” she said, her voice strained as she held out the ring, “also Danny’s?”

“Uh…no.” Seriously, how many ways could one guy fuck up Valentine’s Day this early in the day? “That’s um…ancient history.”

“Right. Ancient as in the girl you were seeing until right before we went out?”

“Not _right_ before we went out. Look…it was a while ago, okay? She left for a long time, and when she came back, we tried to go back to where we’d been, but….” _But only one of us really wanted to try._ But he couldn’t say that. “We’d lost what we had,” Steve said, because it sounded better than they’d never really had it.

Lynn nodded. “I see. And you’d lost it, so you decided to get a ring?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that picture.” She put the ring carefully back in the drawer and closed it, picking up her own clothes. “You know, between Danny and Catherine…maybe there are a few too many people in that bed for me,” she said, pulling her clothes on in a hurry.

“There is no one else in this bed,” Steve said, sitting up. 

“Well, there’s a toothbrush in the bathroom and an engagement ring in the drawer, so it sure seems like a lot of people in the bedroom, at the very least.” She slipped into her shoes. “I think I’ll make it one less.”

She was gone before he could even find a pair of shorts to throw on and go after her.

***

_Valentine’s Night_

Danny had been proud of the card. He’d searched long and hard for just the right one. One that conveyed how much he cared about Melissa, that showed how he felt without being overstated and commercial, like most of Valentine’s Day tended to be.

Apparently something got lost in translation. 

Or, rather, what he wanted to say wasn’t translating into what she wanted to hear. Despite what some people thought, Danny wasn’t stupid. He knew what she wanted to hear. It just wasn’t something he threw around to just anyone outside of his family. He’d said to Rachel, and look how that worked out. 

As for any other times he said it…that was a completely different story altogether.

“Danny, are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am—it’d be hard to miss it. I’m sure the neighbors are listening, too!”

It was weird, seeing a Rachel look on Melissa’s face, but it turned out their disappointed expressions were eerily similar. “Fine,” she said. “Maybe the neighbors would have a better answer, then.”

Also just like Rachel, which led to a question he didn’t feel like he should need to ask, not after that last several months, but he had to ask it anyway. “Is this about Rachel?”

“No! This is about how much time you make for me. About whether or not I’m a priority.”

“You are a priority,” Danny said, repeating it a few times for good measure. Because she was—his job was just a higher one. 

“You’re not listening!”

“I am!” Not that he needed to—he’d heard this argument so many times during his marriage he could recite it. “You are a priority,” he said again, the only thing he could say. “You are.”

He knew that look, too, the one that said she wasn’t buying a word of it. Seriously, did women go to some kind of class growing up to learn the same expressions to help men out? “Really? So, last weekend, when I wanted to go to the movies, where were you?”

That tone was also familiar, sounded just like the trap he knew it was, but he couldn’t exactly lie. “We had a case.”

“That ended in the afternoon—I saw the arrest on the news.”

And then he’d gone for dinner with Steve and Kono, because Grover and Chin had had people to go home to and they didn’t want Kono to be alone. “I told you—Kono had missed her scheduled visit with Adam, we were trying to cheer her up.”

Her smile looked a little sad, and he didn’t know why. “Exactly. You’re a sweet guy, Danny, but your list of priorities…I’m just not anywhere near the top. You spend more time with Steve than you do with me.”

“Of course I do—he’s my partner. We work together. Actually, I was pretty much kidnapped by him and never let go, so I really don’t have a lot of choice.”

“Yeah, that’s why you went on vacation with him to Maui?”

“That wasn’t a vacation. It was court mandated therapy. Really not the same thing.”

Melissa nodded, but nothing in her face looked like that was in any way agreement. “Right, sure, the court forced you to go to a couple’s retreat on Maui? Don’t lie, Danny, I looked up your ‘therapy.’ Seriously, what was that?”

“Steve’s an idiot, that’s what that was. He didn’t read past ‘boot camp.’ But the therapist modified the sessions so we could get our therapy out of the way. Which, by the way, leaves me more time to spend with you.” No point in mentioning what else he and Steve worked out along the way—he didn’t think that would do anything to help the situation.

“Yea, and that’s happened so much,” Melissa said. “Seems like you’re still spending more time with him than with me.”

“What do you want me to say, Melissa? It’s my job. You want me to quit my job, is that it?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. “You know what, it doesn’t matter what I want. It matters what you’re willing to give, and to who.” She pushed past him. “I’m going to bed. Feel free to sleep on the couch—or over at Steve’s.”

He watched her go, listened to the slam of the door before he went into the living room and sat on the couch. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand. He did. This was the story of his life, and it wasn’t Melissa’s fault that she was just coming in during the reruns.

Being a cop was in his DNA, and the only thing that ever came above it was his kids. Anyone else either loved him enough that they got it, or they gave up in the end.

Steve got it. Then again, the two of them were far too much alike in that respect. In a lot of ways, more than Danny really liked to examine, any more than he liked to examine his reluctance to go to bed in his own room with his girlfriend. 

Maybe they hadn’t seen much of each other in the last few weeks, but he’d been busy—between cases and his kids, he’d had only a couple of nights to have dinner with Melissa, and only dinner. Which was one of the reasons he’d planned such a special night for Valentine’s Day.

Apparently not special enough. 

He kicked off his shoes and put his feet up, pulling a blanket over his legs and turning on the TV. He’d spent his fair share of nights on the couch in the past, wasn’t like it was unfamiliar territory.

Wasn’t even like he hadn’t slept on the couch a fair number of times the last few weeks.

Putting that thought, and everything that went with it, out of his head, Danny turned off the light and curled up under the blanket.

***

It took a second for Danny to orient himself when the phone rang. Right, couch. He grabbed the phone quickly before it could wake Melissa up in the next room, only to find he had a case to go to.

Great, just what he needed, to tell Melissa he was leaving without finishing their fight to go get Steve for a case. 

He opened the door to the bedroom carefully. Melissa was asleep, looking as beautiful as ever. She was amazing and wonderful and he was lucky as hell to have her, especially given everything. 

So why couldn’t he say the words?

He ignored the snicker from the corner of his mind as he closed the door quietly. He’d grab clothes from the laundry room and let her sleep. They could finish their conversation when he got home.

***

_February 16_

Danny unlocked the door to his house, leaning tiredly against it as he put the keys in his pocket. The Red Bull had worn off, leaving him even more exhausted. He should’ve just come home instead of going with the group for a drink, but he’d had to hear Steve’s story. 

Figures that Steve could get away with a woman finding an engagement ring and still have her performing a strip tease hours later, where Danny couldn’t even get his own girlfriend to listen to reason over a stupid card. 

God knows Danny had forgiven him more things than anyone really should, but…Danny couldn’t really be held responsible. It was Steve, and Danny had just about come to the realization that he had no self-preservation where Steve was concerned. 

Which was why he needed his relationship with Melissa to work now more than ever. As soon as he’d had some sleep, he’d find her and apologize. See if he could get her to understand, and maybe work things out.

He opened the door to his room and stopped, staring at Melissa, sound asleep. Maybe she’d seen reason after all, if she’d come back after a full day and slept there, waiting for him. He was too tired to think about it, though. 

He climbed into bed, trying not to wake her, but she woke anyway, smiling at him before snuggling into him as if they hadn’t fought. Nice to know he was forgiven, even if he didn’t know how. 

As soon as he woke up, he’d have to ask, but first, he needed sleep. 

***

Steve stared out at the ocean, waiting for Lynn. She’d been far more reasonable after a little time, and they’d had a good time at dinner, and after—despite the black eye. If anything, maybe because of the black eye. He was sure that helped whatever lingering annoyance she’d felt with him go away. Kicking someone in the face tended to do that, even if it was by accident. 

Steve opened his phone, flipping away from Danny’s last text to his contacts and pulling Catherine up. He should’ve taken the ring back already. Would take it back tomorrow, in fact. It was past time to move on. 

Of course, the first step to moving on was cutting ties. Which meant deleting her from the phone. He tapped the screen, watching as she disappeared. 

First step taken.

He put the phone down before he could get caught checking text messages again, as he heard Lynn coming through the yard. She’d forgiven him, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate him texting Danny right now, given everything. Even though there was no point—he was sure Danny was with Melissa, making his disastrous card up to her and blissfully ignoring the fact that if he couldn’t say he loved her by now, he probably wasn’t ever going to manage it.

Steve put the phone down and put Danny out of his head. He would focus on Lynn and make her realize that she was the only one currently occupying his bed, and his life, at least in that way. 

As for whatever went on his head, that had never been under his control before. Why should it start now?

***


	15. Chapter 15

Steve checked his phone, frowning as he saw full signal and no missed calls. Danny had taken his mother down to talk with the FBI hours ago. He should have been back by now, unless something had gone wrong.

Which, given their track record with federal agencies, Steve didn’t really want to consider. 

He’d checked the phone a dozen more times before it finally rang, Danny’s face on the screen. “What happened?” Steve said as soon as he picked up.

Danny’s sigh did nothing to help Steve’s apprehension. “Apparently Matt’s death did nothing to stop the never-ending parade of people wanting to use him to get to me.”

“What?” Steve got up, heading for his office door. “Where are you? I’m coming down there.”

“No, stay put, I’m home.” Steve could picture the tired slope of Danny’s shoulders just from his tone. “Ma’s off soaking in the bathtub—though I think she’s really hiding because she feels guilty. She thinks she brought the FBI down on me.”

Steve sat back down at his desk. “What happened?”

“Turns out Matt gave my mother some of his money. She never touched it until she bought the plane ticket to come out here this time. So they waited until she got here and used it to bring me in.”

“Who is they?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“You have no idea?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Steven, who might have a grudge against us?”

Steve started reviewing the list, but it was too long. “What did they do to your mom?”

“Nothing. Just upset her, grilled her a little, then let her go when it was obvious that I was the one they wanted.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come over there?”

“No, stay there. Make a list of who the likely suspects are and we can start picking through them tomorrow. I just wanted to give you a heads up to be on the lookout.”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “You do the same.”

Danny’s laugh held no amusement. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder since the FBI showed up at the door.”

“Smart.” Steve thought there were a few other things they should probably do that would be smart—like having everything swept for bugs, for starters. “Listen, don’t let it get to you tonight, all right?”

“They tried to use my mother to get to us, Steve.”

“I know. And we’ll find out who it is and make sure they regret it,” Steve said quietly. “But don’t let it get to you, or it’ll only upset your mom worse.”

Danny sighed. “I know. You’re right.”

“Wait, say that again,” Steve said. “I want to get my recorder.”

“Shut up.” 

Danny’s tone had lightened a little, making Steve smile. “Seriously, don’t let it get to you too much. And call if you need anything.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

They said goodbye, and Steve hit the end call button, looking at Danny’s picture on the screen until the screen went blank.

***


	16. Chapter 16

Steve pushed his front door open, fumbling for the light with one hand, as he reached into his pocket for his phone with the other. The lamp gave him enough light to make his way through to the kitchen as he glanced at the phone, seeing Danny’s picture before he answered.

“Hey,” Steve said, flipping on the kitchen light. “How’d it go?”

“Lovely.” Danny’s tone made it clear it had been anything but. “The FBI had a lot of questions, Ma was apologizing to me all the way there and all the way back...really, I’d love to do it all over again tomorrow.”

Steve grabbed a beer from the fridge and headed back into the living room. “I’m sorry, buddy.” The words felt like such a small thing when he wished he could do more, but there was nothing he could do. “How are your parents?”

“Okay, I guess, considering.” Danny sighed. “I mean, they were starting to put Matt’s death behind them—as much as anyone could after losing a kid—and now this…it’s just dragged everything back out again, you know?”

“Yeah.” Steve settled in on the couch. “How are you doing?” he asked, as he opened his beer.

“I’m fine.”

Steve knew that tone, and it wasn’t fine. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” He was lying, but he pushed on before Steve could argue. “You know what was really odd about our little chat with the FBI today, though?”

“What?”

“The agent here was very interested in making sure we hadn’t spent any more of the money and that there wasn’t any other property that could go back to the people Matt stole from, but he wasn’t the least bit interested in digging into anything else.”

Which was a far cry from the conversation Danny had described with the FBI in Honolulu. “At least we know the entire FBI isn’t out to get us?” 

“Apparently,” Danny said. “It does narrow down the search for who was behind that one-way mirror.”

“Well the CIA and the FBI don’t generally get along, so I think we can assume that it’s not the CIA pushing it.”

“Maybe,” Danny said. “Though they can find ways to get along if they each have something the other wants.”

How sad that they had to go through this much analysis to even narrow down which branch of their supposed fellow law officers might be out to get them. “Still, I say we start with anyone who we’ve pissed off that has FBI connections before we extend it to the CIA and beyond.”

“Yeah.”

“So what’s going on there?” Danny asked. “They hang Sang Min for murder yet?”

Steve took a long drink, prolonging his answer because he knew what was coming. “Actually…we’re trying to prove he didn’t do it.”

“What?”

Steve had pulled the phone away from his ear in anticipation of that response. “We don’t think he did it,” he said.

“I can’t leave that rock for five minutes without all of you losing your minds, can I?”

“Look, Danny, I know the stuff he’s done—“

“You mean like drugging kids up and selling them for sex? That stuff?”

“But--"

“Or how about how he smuggled Hesse onto the island so he could kill your father? Oh, but not until after he hooked Hesse up with the gun that did it. That stuff?”

Steve took a deep breath, keeping a tight hold on his temper. Danny’s day has more than sucked, his trip sucked. All the shit with Matt coming back all over again, and add to that it being used to go after their team…to say it hadn’t been a good week was an understatement.

Plus, Steve remembered Danny after Matt. How he couldn’t sleep, how hard everything was, and, most of all, how he went to a Colombian prison. And almost didn’t come back. So if Danny needed something to lash out about to handle everything there, fine. Steve could take it. Anything to avoid a repeat of last year.

“I haven’t forgotten any of that, Danny," Steve said quietly. "Just like I haven't forgotten that it's my job to uphold the law. And whatever Sang Min did in the past, he's not guilty of this crime. So what am I supposed to do, just let the real killer run around out there free because I don't like the guy?"

"No. But,,,"

 _But a guy who did all that is walking around and even getting our help, while Danny's brother ended up dead in a barrel_. Steve got that, too. But he also couldn’t do any more about that than he could about Sang Min's past. "There are a lot of things in the past," Steve said slowly, "that I can't fix. But this, making sure the right person goes down for this murder, this is something I can still fix." 

"I know." 

The words sounded tired. No, they sounded exhausted, and Steve wanted to be there to help, even if helping was just sitting next to Danny, close enough to let some of the frustration and anger bleed out into Steve instead. The need to get on the next flight to New Jersey was like a buzz under Steve’s skin, but he had to ignore it, just like he had to ignore most of the impulses he had when it came to Danny these days. 

He wouldn’t trade the actual memories he had of sex with Danny for the half-remembered dreams, but it certainly hadn’t made it easier to forget. 

“So when are you coming back again?” 

As if he didn’t have Danny’s return flight number, take off, connection and arrival information memorized, but Danny didn’t call him on it. “Day after tomorrow. My flight gets in around three, I think?”  
Two thirty, but Steve just said, “Okay. I’m picking you up, right?”

“You’d better. You have my car.” 

“Right. I forgot it wasn’t mine.”

Danny laughed. “You’d better remember, because I want it back when I get home.”

Hearing Danny call Hawaii home never failed to make Steve’s stomach do a funny little flip. “It’ll be here waiting for you.” 

He wasn’t sure if it had been something in his voice or his words, but there was a moment before Danny said, his voice quiet, thoughtful, “I know.”

Steve heard a knock in the distance over the line, then muffled voices, before Danny said, “I gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Night, Danno.”

“Night.”

***

The engine on the Camaro was cool, and Steve had all but abused his Five-0 badge with curbside enforcement, when Danny came through the arrival doors. Steve waved as Danny squinted in his direction, pushing off the side of the car and taking a few steps forward. 

He started to reach for Danny’s bag, but changed his mind at Danny’s face, popping the trunk open instead. “Bad flight?”

Danny shook his head, tossing his bag in the trunk and slamming it down. He got into the passenger seat without another word, leaving Steve to get behind the wheel without any idea what he was getting into. 

Steve pulled away from the curb, shooting Danny glances as he left the airport and pulled onto Nimitz. He was nearing the ugliest part of the early rush hour when Danny said, “Stop it.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me like I’m going to kick your puppy,” Danny said. “I’m fine. I just need a few minutes to get out of angry traveler mode.”

Steve had seen Danny before, during and after flights enough to know that wasn’t all it was. But he did as Danny asked, keeping his eyes on the road until Danny spoke again. “Sorry,” he said. “It was a rough goodbye – Ma’s worried that she’s put a target on my back with the bank account, and after what happened to Matt….” 

He didn’t have to finish that—Steve had had enough nightmares of his own about what might happen to Danny, he could only imagine what his mother was dreaming about. 

Steve hesitated a second before asking, “You want to grab dinner before you go home?”

“Yeah,” Danny said, sinking down into the seat a little further. “Can we get takeout or something? I’m not in the mood for a restaurant.”

“I can do better than that,” Steve said. “I have steaks at home.” 

Danny cracked his first smile since he’d walked out of the airport. “I forgive you for breaking that perp’s nose last week, just for that.”

Steve laughed and pushed a little harder on the gas pedal.

***

As the steaks grilled, Steve watched Danny carefully, the moon bright enough for him to see how Danny’s posture changed slowly as they talked. By the time they sat down to eat, Danny was more himself, if still a little subdued. 

Well, subdued for Danny at any rate.

“Seriously,” Steve said, “it was the most bizarre mock court I’ve ever seen.”

Danny shook his head, chuckling. “I almost wish I’d seen it,” he said, taking a drink. “Odell must’ve done okay in court, though. I mean, Sang Min got off.”

“He did.” Steve finished off his beer. “I’m not sure he’s going to give up barbering anytime soon for a courtroom, but he did good.” 

“Look,” Danny said, putting his drink down and getting up, hands in his pocket. “I’m sorry about the other night, giving you such a hard time about everything. I just--”

“Danny,” Steve said, standing up, “if you really think you need to explain yourself to me after all this time, then we need to be having a very different conversation.”

Danny huffed out a half laugh, the corners of his mouth turning up just a bit. “I know, I just…throwing all that stuff back in your face about your dad wasn’t my finest moment.”

“Hey.” Steve took a step closer and put his hand on Danny’s shoulder. “You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

“I didn’t say anything you didn’t already know and didn’t need reminding of, either.”

Steve shook his head. “Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

There was that half laugh again. “Okay.”

“Good.” 

Danny’s eyes looked even more pale than usual in the moonlight, and Steve couldn’t quite remember how to look away, or how to drop his hand, which seem to have suddenly become attached to Danny’s shoulder. 

Steve licked his lips, watched as it grabbed Danny’s attention. He saw the change in the way Danny was breathing, and could swear Danny suddenly felt warmer, even with several inches between them. Steve shuffled a little closer, his gaze dropping from Danny’s eyes to his mouth, that mouth that had driven all of Steve’s grief out of his mind, at least momentarily, after Deb had died.

He wanted to do the same for Danny, to drive the thoughts of Matt and his family out, just for a little while. To make him forget the pain he could still see lurking somewhere behind Danny’s eyes.

He took another half step closer, leaning in. 

Danny’s phone rang, and Danny took a sudden step back, clearing his throat as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “It’s Melissa.”

He walked into the house to take the call, as Steve let out a long breath, getting himself under control. 

Danny didn’t need him to drive anything out of his mind. He had Melissa for that. It wasn’t part of Steve’s job.

The sudden knowledge that he wanted it to be part of his job set awkwardly on his shoulders. He gave himself a second to process it before he stuffed it back down where it came from and locked it away.

***


	17. Chapter 17

Danny pulled up to Steve’s and killed the engine. The Camaro was the only car there besides Steve’s truck, leaving plenty of room for the rest of the team to park. Which meant Steve was likely alone, and the two of them would be the only ones in the house until someone else showed up.

The car door felt heavy as Danny opened it, pocketing the keys as he made his way up the path to the front door. He hesitated, considering knocking before he realized how stupid that would look, and opened the door. Steve was on the couch, but he got up, smiling, as Danny walked in. 

“You get lost on the way here?” Steve asked, holding out a beer. 

“No, it’s called the speed limit,” Danny said. “You should try it.” His fingers brushed Steve’s as Danny took the beer, sending a little shock through Danny, the feeling all too familiar from too many nights of memories that he couldn’t stop when he as asleep. 

Danny had started to dread going to bed, especially when that was the one place he couldn’t avoid the memories of the night Deb died even when he was awake. Not that he would change anything—he’d do anything for Steve. They’d do anything for each other. But there was no getting around the extra…something between them since then. The trip to Jersey was supposed to have helped, but then he’d come back and it was like it had gotten worse, like it was some sort of magnetic pull. 

Melissa’s call had saved him from a really stupid mistake. 

“Danny?”

Danny blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I said do you want to maybe sit down?”

Of course. He’d been standing in the middle of the room like an idiot, and now Steve was looking at him funny, the frown lines deepening in his forehead. “Yeah, sorry. Just…tired,” Danny said as he moved to the couch. 

He settled in, not thinking about the fact that they’d first kissed on that very couch. Even though Steve didn’t remember it, Danny couldn’t purge it from his brain, not now. And Steve needed him to do just that, needed Danny to forget everything that had happened. Steve was clearly happy with Lynn, who actually seemed like she might not break Steve’s heart into a million pieces, something Steve more than deserved. 

And even if Steve was interested, with Danny’s track record, they would be lucky not to blow up the island when the inevitable happened and they fell apart. And he wouldn’t even be there to pick up the pieces, because he’d have taken away Steve’s best friend as well. 

Steve deserved better than that. 

“Danny? Earth to Danny.”

At some point, Steve had sat down on the couch, his warmth inviting Danny in. Danny actually found himself swaying for a half second before he stopped. “Sorry,” Danny said, rubbing his eyes. “Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

Steve leaned in a little, studying Danny’s face, holding his gaze as Danny sat there, every muscle still as a stone to avoid jumping up to get away. “You sure that’s all it is?”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “I’ll be better once we stop having to look over our shoulders and worrying about our family getting caught up in this any further.”

Steve’s face fell, like this was somehow all his fault that they were being hunted yet again. Like it wasn’t Danny who’d brought the avenue of attack into their fold. “We’ll stop him,” Steve said.

“I know.”

The door opened, Chin and Abby coming through mid-conversation, looking so coupley that Danny’s stomach felt a little odd. Seriously, couldn’t they get a room until they at least got through the honeymoon phase?

Steve got up to greet them, the air next to Danny suddenly cool and flat. He looked at Chin and Abby again, how they stood so close together, no personal space between them, how they seemed to gravitate towards each other without even knowing it.

Danny looked at Steve again, leaning in his direction just a little without even meaning to.

Yeah, maybe that honeymoon phase might take a few years to wear off. 

***

Danny wasn’t eavesdropping on Steve’s conversation with Brenner. He was, however, watching carefully enough that he saw Steve’s whole body change, could tell that something wasn’t right. 

By the time was out of the office, Danny was beside him. “What’d Brenner say?” Danny asked as they double-marched towards the rendition room.

“He wanted to know,” Steve ground out, sounding as if the words hurt his throat, “if I had a direct line to Catherine.”

What? “Catherine? Why?”

Steve yanked the door open with more force than necessary and practically jumped for the stairs. “Apparently Lt. Rollins is undercover for the CIA in Kiev.”

The words didn’t make sense, until they did. Danny wanted to stop right then, wanted to yank Steve off into a closet somewhere and either hug him or make him talk until he dealt with this head on. Preferably both. 

But they couldn’t stop. And dealing with something head on was only Steve’s style if it had nothing to do with his feelings. “Well that explains a lot,” Danny said, as they reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Yeah.” 

At least he was pissed about it, though how much of that anger was at Catherine and how much was just fear for her safety Danny couldn’t tell. 

Knowing Steve, anger was probably the least of it. 

***

Danny waited until they were halfway to the hospital before finally breaking the silence. “Ear plugs?” he asked.

Steve didn’t answer.

“Look,” Danny said, “I get that the stakes just got a lot higher for you.” Because he did. Even after everything Rachel had done, Danny would still bring hell down on the head of anyone who threatened her life. It wasn’t like he could just stop caring for her. There was no off switch. So he got it. And he cared about Catherine as well. Still. “I’m just saying, let’s be smart about this, all right? Let’s not do anything rash. Can you do that, Steve? Huh?”

Steve was gripping the steering wheel like it was personally withholding information about the thumb drive. “After six years, you really think that’s going to happen?”

“No,” Danny said tiredly, sinking down into the car seat, “I just want to be able to tell them at your trial that I tried.”

***

“So,” Danny said, as they sped back to HQ. “Where’d you shoot him?”

Steve actually managed a glance in Danny’s direction. “Leg.”

Danny nodded. “Good choice.”

To Danny’s surprise, Steve cracked a grin. “I’m glad you liked it,” Steve said, “since it was your idea.”

“What? No, sorry, it was not my idea, Steven. I wasn’t even there. I was outside making sure the good guys didn’t come after you.”

Steve shook his head, the grin disappearing. “Never mind—it’s a long story. I’ll tell you later.”

Danny just hoped that later didn’t involve Steve behind bullet-proof glass, talking through a phone.

***

Danny turned Dalton over to HPD before looking around for Steve, not surprised to find him standing by the ocean. Where else did a SEAL go when he had a problem? 

“Hey,” Danny said, as he stepped up beside Steve.

Steve glanced at him, his voice sounding almost normal as he replied, “Hey.”

But nothing else. Danny tried again. “Catherine's safe.”

“Well,” Steve said, “she's on a covert op in the Ukraine. I don't know how safe she is.”

“Well, you can contact her, right?” 

Steve shook his head. “Nope, not while she's in the field.”

It was like Doris 2.0, and as worried as Danny might be about Catherine’s safety, a little part of him wanted to shoot her himself for doing this to Steve knowing his history. 

Of course, another little part of him wanted to shoot Steve for not ranting his head off about it.

“You gonna be angry 'cause she lied to you again?” Danny asked. Because Steve should be. He should be very angry. “Or what?

“Yeah,” Steve said, as if he’d just decided on chicken instead of steak for dinner. “Yeah, I'm angry.” 

Yeah, right, Danny had seen Hare Krishnas at the airport who sounded angrier than that. 

“You know something, Danny?” Steve said, still not sounding angry. “If I'm honest with myself, I also understand why she did it. Given the circumstances, I probably would have done the same thing.”

Which…he more or less had done the first couple of years he and Danny had been together. Until Danny had broken him of that habit. Broken through his secret barrier and made him share the information and the risk as well as the worry.

“Yeah, see,” Danny said, “I think that maybe she just didn't want you worrying about her.”

Either Steve didn’t see the correlation, or he ignored it, as he said, “Little hard not to now.”

“I think that she is gonna be fine. She's gonna be fine.” Danny was babbling, anything to make Steve feel better about this. Because he remembered the days after Afghanistan, even as he said “She's a very tough lady. She can handle herself. Everything'll be okay.” 

He recognized that look, too, also from after Afghanistan. The one that said Steve thought he should’ve been where Catherine was, protecting her. He knew exactly what Steve was feeling, knew that it was the same thing Danny was feeling watching Steve worry.

After a moment Steve said, the words quiet, “Thanks, Danny.”

They stood there watching the waves roll in and out, constant no matter what drama happened in or around them. Before Steve could brood too far, Danny nudged his arm. “Come on,” Danny said, jerking his head towards the cars. “Let’s get something to eat.”

He saw Steve’s hesitation, could see the refusal forming on his tongue.

“Come on, my treat,” Danny said. “You gotta eat.”

A smile—small, but real—settled on Steve’s face. “Well, if you’re paying….” 

“Then it must be a day ending in ‘y’?”

Steve rolled his eyes, putting one hand on Danny’s shoulder and turning him towards the cars. “Come on, money bags, let’s eat.”

Their banter was almost normal as they walked back, everything almost so much like it had been for years that Danny could almost ignore that feeling like an itch at the back of his neck, the one he couldn’t figure out but knew was about to bite him and good.

Almost.

***


	18. Chapter 18

Steve watched from a distance as a sea of EMTs tended to the men rescued from the ship. The city must’ve sent every EMT on duty and even a few who weren’t, which was no more than what these men deserved after what they’d been through. 

“They finished searching the ship,” Chin said, as he stepped up beside Steve. “That’s everyone.”

Steve nodded, still watching the EMTs. “How did we miss this?” 

“They were careful,” Chin said. “And good.” 

Steve knew that, just as he knew it was unrealistic to think they could see every crime. Still.

His phone rang, and he answered without looking at the screen. “McGarrett.”

“Steve, it’s Duke. Thought you’d want to know HPD just got a backup call from a guy who said he’s with Danny.”

“What? Danny was out with his kids—what happened?”

“I don’t know everything, but the guy said they were tracking a couple of criminals and HPD needed to get out there,” Duke said.

None of this made any sense—why hadn’t Danny called? Unless he couldn’t. “Where is he?” Duke gave him the address, and Steve thanked him before hanging up and turning to Chin. “I have to go,” Steve said. “Danny called for backup.”

“Isn’t this his day off?” Chin asked.

“When has that ever stopped him from getting into trouble?” 

“Yeah, but usually you’re with him when disaster strikes.” Chin said. “Let us know everything’s okay?”

Steve nodded as he hurried off to his truck.

***

Of course traffic was terrible. 

Steve had gone as far as he could on the shoulder, police lights flashing, but the shoulder had narrowed too much, which left him stuck there while Danny was in God only knew what kind of trouble. Duke had let him know that Grace and Charlie were at least safe and on their way back downtown, but knowing Danny, Steve had been sure they weren’t in danger. That would be the first thing Danny would do, make sure his kids were safe. Danny’s devotion to being a father was one of his most attractive qualities. 

Not that his looks weren’t pretty high on that list. Steve just tried not to think about that—though his subconscious didn’t quite seem to be getting that message, especially not since Danny had come back from Jersey. That night Danny had come back from Jersey had been…well, something Steve had forced out of his mind as much as possible. He had, in fact, done a great job of not thinking about it during the day. 

Of course, what happened while he was asleep was a different story.

Not that it mattered. Not that any of it mattered. Danny was happy with Melissa, clearly, and Danny deserved to be happy. Who was Steve to fuck that up? Danny had no trouble with words. If he wanted anything more from Steve, he would’ve asked for it by now. So clearly he didn’t.

Whatever Steve had thought almost happened the night Danny returned from Jersey was clearly in his head and he needed to forget about it. 

At least he’d had the distraction of realizing that A, Catherine was off in Kiev undercover, and B, Catherine had been lying to him for who knew how long. Had she ever even left the Navy? Had her supposed career switch to spend more time with him been a cover from the start? All those trips she’d taken—reserve duty, visiting friends—had all those been lies, too?

How could he have been ready to marry her? How could he not have known, not have seen that she was lying to his face?

Not that he didn’t understand, on some level. He did. Didn’t make it any easier to stomach, any more than knowing that Danny was off limits made it any easier to stop thinking about what he wanted. He wondered what Freud would say about his constant desire for things he couldn’t have. 

Then again…no. He really didn’t want to know. He had a feeling it would just be depressing. 

***

By the time Steve reached the scene, HPD was already there. Steve saw Danny sitting on the porch, something tied around his arm—the same arm he’d gotten shot in a couple of times. Steve looked down at one of the perps as he walked by, only then realizing there was an arrow sticking out of the guy’s chest. 

An actual arrow.

He looked up to see Danny had a bow lying next to him. No way. There was no way Danny had shot a guy dead center with a bow and arrow and Steve missed it. That just wasn’t fair. 

Danny looked a little pale, but his smile was real as he saw Steve. “Late, as usual,” Danny said. 

“Only because someone didn’t call for backup.”

“I did,” Danny said. “You couldn’t hear me, so I had to recruit Vance here.” Danny waved at the guy sitting next to him. “Vance, Steve. Steve, Vance.”

Steve shook the man’s hand, grateful someone had been there to help. “You didn’t call,” Steve said. “The only call I got all day was from Mamo.”

“Yeah, that was me,” Danny said, “Mamo lent me his phone.”

 _Mamo?_ “Clearly there’s a story,” Steve said. “What do you say you tell me the details on the way to the ER?”

“Sounds like a good idea.” Danny pushed up off the step, pausing to thank Vance. 

Steve stilled himself against the urge to yank Danny away as the two of them shook hands. “Come on, Robin Hood,” Steve said.

Danny fell into step beside him. “Robin Hood?” Danny said, making it clear what he thought of that nickname.

“Legolas?” Steve said, shooting a sideways look at Danny. At Danny’s glare, Steve had to look away to hide his grin. “Okay,” he said, glancing at Danny again, “Katniss?”

“My right arm is fine, Steven. I can punch you.”

Steve laughed, but he’d felt Danny’s right hook, so he kept his mouth shut. Just in case.

***

By the time they were on the outskirts of Honolulu, Danny had told Steve a story that seemed implausible, at best. “You realize,” Steve said, “that if this was a movie, no one would believe it.”

“Truth is stranger than fiction, my friend.”

“Yeah, but you shooting with a bow and arrow? This I would need to see for myself,” Steve said. “Hey, we could go bow hunting, though—there’s a great spot—“

“You put a bow in my hand and I’ll shoot you with it.”

Which was absolutely not the end of it, but Steve knew when to drop something, at least for now. 

***

Despite Danny’s alertness and normalcy—well, normal for Danny—Steve was still relieved when the doctor at Tripler pronounced the wound to be superficial. Just another scratch to add to the growing ones on that bicep. “You know,” Steve said, watching as the wound was cleaned, “you could get a tattoo on that shoulder, since it’s marked up already.” 

“Not all of us feel the need to show off our manly pain tolerance by covering ourselves in tattoos, Steven.” Danny grinned up at him. “Besides, girls like the scars. Makes me look mysterious.”

Steve shoved that nasty green monster down, deep down, where it could shut the hell up, as his phone saved him from needing to respond. “McGarrett.”

“Hey, Steve,” Kamekona said. “You seen Danny?”

“He’s right here, why?”

“I got a couple of keiki here who are worried about him.”

Steve put the phone on speaker and held it down so Danny could hear. “Grace and Charlie are there?”

“Yeah, the bus dropped them off with Mamo a few minutes ago.”

Steve saw his own relief mirrored tenfold on Danny’s face. “Thanks, Kamekona,” Steve said. “We’ll be there soon.”

He hung up the phone and pocketed it, giving Danny a smile as the doctor finished bandaging up Danny’s arm. “Is he all set, doc?” Steve asked.

“He’s good. I’ll just get the paperwork and instructions and you can go.”

“He could skip the instructions,” Danny said as the doctor walked off. “I think I know them by heart.”

Steve huffed out a quiet laugh. “Maybe stop getting shot so much?”

“I’d have to get a new partner for that,” Danny said.

The words made Steve flinch a little inside, even though he knew Danny was kidding. “You can’t blame this one on me,” Steve said. “I wasn’t even there!” 

“Exactly,” Danny said. “If you’d been there, you’d have had my back.”

Which didn’t exactly jive with Danny’s usual assertion that Steve’s presence was what got him shot or injured. But since it supported Steve’s need to watch Danny’s back, Steve could support this one. “Clearly you need to keep me closer.” 

That thought, combined with the look that flashed across Danny’s face at the words, was all Steve needed to know he wasn’t going to get a lot of relief from his dreams tonight.

***

They were digging into shrimp plates when Chin and Abby arrived. “Looks like they made up,” Danny said quietly, leaning into Steve. Danny’s voice so close and low in Steve’s ear sent a shiver through him, and it took him a second to follow the conversation. 

“Good,” Steve said, just as quietly, pausing to clear his throat. “Chin deserves some happiness.”

He watched the two of them get their own plates before walking over to the table, heads close together, looking every bit like a happy couple. “Danny,” Chin said, as he sat down, “I hear you want to go bow hunting with us next time?”

“No,” Danny said quickly. “No sir, not me. I hope I never have to pick up a bow again.”

Abby leaned into Chin. “I used to be good with a bow,” she said. “Sounds like fun.”

Chin looked delighted. “Sounds like a date, then.”

“It must be nice,” Grace said, looking at Abby, “working with your boyfriend.”

Abby blushed. “It has benefits.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, “until the inevitable explosion that causes you to hate each other.”

“Well,” Chin said, “you and Steve have been _married_ for years and working together, and all those explosions haven’t messed up your partnership yet.”

“Uncle Steve and Daddy are married?” Charlie asked, clearly confused.

Steve heard the laughter around the table, heard Danny explaining, but the words didn’t register. He was too busy trying to stuff a whole box of things he didn’t need back down inside before he could even see what was in it.

Some things were better left unknown.

***


	19. Chapter 19

Steve had been waiting for the phone call. As soon as he saw Danny’s name, he muted his TV and answered the phone. 

“What the hell, Steven?” Danny said.

“And a hello to you, too, Daniel.”

“Where did you get that picture?”

Steve settled back into the couch, feeling his shoulders start inching down from their position somewhere up near his ears. “Picture?” he said, as innocently as he could manage.

“Yes,” Danny ground out. “The one you just sent me ten minutes ago, and therefore I know you can’t have forgotten it already.”

“Oh, you mean the one of you in sparkles, glitter and pom-poms? That picture?”

“There was no glitter.”

Steve laughed. “Looked like some glitter in your hair, Danno.”

“Okay, I suppose some might’ve worn off when Grace hugged me. Do you want to mock me for hugging my daughter, Steven?”

Not when the mere thought of Danny hugging Grace made Steve smile at the worst of times, no. “No, I just think the glitter is a nice look, Danny. You should try it on the job—you could dazzle confessions out of people.”

“And yet I can’t seem to get a confession out of you as to where you got the picture. You’d better not have someone following me, because there are stalker laws.”

“Do they apply if I only hired the guy to protect you?”

“Steven.”

The word was more of a growl, and Steve shifted on the couch to allow himself a little more room in his suddenly tight pants. “I got the picture from Grace’s Instagram, Danny.”

“Impossible. She has all of you blocked. I made sure of it before I let her have the account.”

The grin on Steve’s face actually moved the phone a little. “I know people, Danny.”

“Toast would never,” Danny said. “Besides, he’s way too busy with that game now anyway.” 

“I know more people than just Toast.”

Danny’s sigh was nothing short of epic, and Steve reveled in it. “Do not make me come all the way back there just to punch you,” Danny said.

“You’d never leave Grace’s competition for that.”

“Okay, don’t make me call Kono and have her punch you for me.”

“She wouldn’t.” 

“She owes me.”

Steve moved the phone to his other ear, sinking even further into the couch, starting to feel a little boneless. “What’s the big deal, Danny? It’s not like I’m going to poster the walls of the HPD precinct with it.”

“No, because you know better.”

“Of course,” Steve said, drawing the words out, “since Eric was the one who managed to get it in the first place, I can’t promise what he’s going to do with it.”

“I will kill you both, and they will never find the bodies.”

Steve laughed. “You could take Eric, but I’m not so sure you could take me.”

“Steven, I swear—“ Steve heard Grace’s voice in the background. “I have to go,” Danny said. “That picture better not see the light of day, Steven.”

As if he really would. But then, Danny knew that. “Does having it as my wallpaper count?”

“I hate you. So much.”

“Yeah, I miss you, too, Danny. Talk to you later.”

There was a long pause before Steve heard Grace’s voice in the background again, sounding further away. “Yeah,” Danny said, something odd about his voice. “Later.”

***


	20. Chapter 20

_“I’ve always had your back.”_

The words stuck in Danny’s head after Steve walked away, repeating, echoing in his brain whether he wanted them to or not, until Danny gave up on his paperwork and just stared at the suit. Steve wasn’t wrong—he’d always had Danny’s back, since the moment they met. Or at least the moment they stopped pointing guns at each other. No one else had stuck by him that long, family aside…and even some of his family had apparently had their limits.

Still, the idea of the suit had its appeal. He might actually beat Super SEAL for a change. And he’d be pretty sure he’d be able to come home to his kids every night. 

Steve wouldn’t turn him in if he kept the suit, Danny was certain. 

“Hey.” 

Danny looked up to find Steve in the doorway once more. “Are you sure I can’t keep the suit?” Danny asked.

Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head at the same time—Danny never could figure out how he didn’t get a headache doing that. “Come with me,” Steve said.

“Where?”

The eye roll again. “I’m going to prove to you that you don’t need that suit.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that.” 

Steve just stared until Danny stood up with a sigh. “Fine,” Danny said, “but if you get me hurt, I’m keeping the suit.”

He followed Steve down through the gym to the lockers. “Change,” Steve said, heading for his own locker. 

“Into what?”

“Workout gear.” Steve dropped his shirt on the bench. “We’re going to spar so you can see that you don’t need that suit.” 

Danny swallowed as Steve pulled off his t-shirt with one hand. _We are not sparring._ The words were on the tip of his tongue, because it was such a very bad idea. But then he couldn’t exactly explain why, could he? What was he supposed to say? Sorry, but I’m afraid I might jump you in the middle of it? That really wouldn’t work. 

“Danny?”

Steve had changed shirts and was undoing his pants. “Sorry,” Danny said, hastily opening his locker and ducking behind the door so he wouldn’t start staring at Steve taking off his pants. Danny took his time, and Steve was fully clothed again when Danny had finished, looking at Danny a little distantly. 

“Steve?”

Steve blinked. “Yeah, sorry,” Steve said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I was somewhere else for a second.”

“If you’re too tired—“

“Nope. No way. You’re not getting out of this.” Steve nudged Danny towards the door. “Let’s go.”

The mat in the corner of the gym had seen a lot more work than most people would think was healthy, but most people didn’t understand Five-0. They pushed each other as hard as they pushed themselves because no one wanted to lose one of their own. Ever. 

He and Steve hadn’t used the mat together in a while, though, really not since Catherine’s return, and Danny wondered which one of them had been avoiding it and why. Not that Danny hadn’t had reasons—Tough Mudder aside, it still took time to fully recover from donating bone marrow. And by the time he had, well…sparring hadn’t seemed like the greatest idea, not when he’d spent so much time thinking about other, more interesting physical activity with his partner.

“Danny?”

Danny shook himself. “Yeah, sorry,” he said, pasting a smile on his face. “Just planning my attack.”

Steve’s grin sent heat flaring through Danny’s body, a reminder of what a bad idea this was, but Danny no longer cared. He settled into a ready position, watched as Steve did the same, and focused.

At Steve’s first attack, Danny was ready, countering with long practice, the two of them too honed into each other’s style and movement to be a real threat. They were too used to working together, and their sparring showed it—more like a dance than a fight, routines aimed at keeping each other sharp and fast for real battle than at doing any harm. 

The rhythm had always soothed Danny, focused and calmed him better than any meditation he’d ever been forced to try. Nothing quite compared to the feeling of being in sync with the other person, of knowing what every move was going to be and how to both counter and complement it. And for all the partners he’d had, he’d never been quite as in sync with any of them the way he was with Steve. It was why they worked so well together, why they were so good at protecting each other. 

Which had been Steve’s point. 

But what Steve hadn’t counted on—or maybe didn’t even know—was what other effects this would have. Because Danny could feel Steve’s heat even from a few feet when they were like this. He could smell him, his hands slipped on the sweat on Steve’s shoulders just like when they’d had sex. And the smell of him…well, Danny hadn’t exactly washed his sheets the moment Steve had left his bed the last time. 

The calluses on Steve’s hands gripping Danny’s skin were reminders of how that hand felt stripping Danny’s cock. Steve’s arms around Danny’s waist, his back pressed up against Danny’s a moment before Danny flipped him to the ground was so close to sex that Danny’s blood all ran south—what little of it hadn’t already done so at any rate.

The second it took him to regain his equilibrium was all Steve needed to sweep Danny off his feet and onto the ground. Steve was on him before Danny had a chance to roll out of the way, straddling Danny’s torso and looming over him, sweat dripping off his head onto Danny’s face, his breath hot on Danny’s mouth. Danny bit his lip, staring at Steve’s nose and willing him not to notice that, and not to move back another inch, because sweatpants hid nothing, including a raging hard on.

He saw Steve’s tongue dart out to lick his lips, Steve’s harsh breaths shuddering through Danny for several beats before Steve slid off and rolled to his feet. Danny closed his eyes, trying to get various organs from his lungs to his dick under control with a few breaths. 

“See?” Steve said. “You don’t need a suit.” 

Steve’s voice was ragged in a way Danny hadn’t heard since the morning he’d woken up with Steve in his bed. The sound of it alone was enough that he considered breaking, pushing the bounds of their friendship by asking for too much when there was nothing life-altering to blame it on.

Then again, maybe it wouldn’t be too much. Their relationship had more than survived a couple of rolls in the hay so far. Maybe one more wouldn’t hurt it. Maybe it would be just what Danny needed to get it out of his system. 

Said every junkie who wanted to excuse himself for just one more hit. 

“You okay?” Steve asked.

“Yeah.” Danny got up and reset. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Like any good junkie, if he couldn’t get the good stuff, he’d take whatever was on offer.

***


	21. Chapter 21

Steve watched Nahale walk in to the group home, his back stiff, his head held high. Steve could feel the ghost of that exact tension in his own shoulders, the most physical memory of the day he’d walked into his new home on the mainland after his dad had sent him away.

Not quite the same thing, but still.

He’d thought about offering to let Nahale stay the night, but what the kid needed now was stability—not to mention the counselors the home had available. Steve wasn’t exactly the best person to help him. 

The door closed behind Nahale, and Steve drove off. His house would be dark and quiet and utterly unappealing, but Danny’s was always warm and inviting. Even more so when Grace and Charlie were there, though Danny didn’t get them until tomorrow. He knew Danny was home, though, so Steve pointed the truck in that direction.

He could hear the TV as he reached the door, the sound of cheering just audible through the wood. Steve walked inside and saw hockey on the TV. He could just make out Danny’s head where he was sunk down onto the couch, his feet up on the coffee table. 

“Isn’t that some kind of sin worthy of exile from New Jersey, watching a hockey game that isn’t the Devils?” Steve asked, hand still on the door knob as if he was going to be kicked out or something. 

“Fuck you,” Danny said, the words more automatic than annoyed. “The Devils aren’t in the playoffs. Besides,” he added, twisting around to look at Steve, “I’ve already been exiled from New Jersey.” Danny nodded in the direction of the door. “You gonna close that, or are you gonna let the bugs the size of small cars into my house?”

Steve closed the door and made his way around the couch to take a seat. “I’m pretty sure you can go back to New Jersey anytime you want.”

“Yeah, but I can’t stay, so….” Danny shrugged, but he didn’t look like it really bothered him. “How’s Nahale.”

The softer tone in Danny’s voice was like the sun, and Steve wanted to lean into the warmth he heard there. “Upset,” Steve said. “And confused. He thinks he shouldn’t be upset.” 

“The guy may have been bad news, but he was still Nahale’s father,” Danny said.

“Yeah.” Steve got up and took a few steps, more for the need to move than anything else. “I get it, though,” he said, turning to look at Danny. “Every time Doris…well, I get it.”

Danny pushed off the couch, crossing the room to stand in front of Steve. “It’s okay to care about your parents,” Danny said softly. “Even if they weren’t that good at their jobs.”

“I know. It’s just….” Steve took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Telling him about his father…it made me realize how hard it must’ve been for Dad to tell us about Mom. And all I wanted to do was take Nahale home with me and make him feel safe. To take care of him.”

“Most parents would.”

Steve acknowledged the implication—it wasn’t anything he hadn’t been thinking himself. “But my father sent us away,” Steve said. 

“To keep you safe.”

“Yeah, I know that, but that doesn’t mean it helped.” Steve took another breath. “It’s not what you would do—you would move heaven and earth to make your kids safe and keep them with you at the same time.”

“Your dad and I are very different people, though. And the people you would’ve been in danger from are a lot worse than what my kids face.”

“You’re telling me that there would be a level of danger that you would send your kids away from you for?”

Danny shrugged. “Sure. If the island was under threat and I could get them out of here I’d put them on the plane myself.”

“You’d be on the plane with them,” Steve said. 

“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on what the threat was and if I could neutralize it if I stayed. My point,” Danny said, putting his hand on Steve’s arm, “is that you can’t make broad generalizations about what a parent would and wouldn’t do.”

“I can about you—I can absolutely say you would do everything in your power to keep your kids safe.”

“And I can say your dad did the same.”

It wasn’t the same, though Steve didn’t know how to explain it. Maybe it was the way it was obvious Grace and Charlie always felt so safe around Danny, like if they fell out of a plane he’d find a way to catch them. Steve knew without a doubt that, no matter what happened, those kids would feel that way decades from now. Steve hadn’t felt that since his mom had faked her death.

At least not until Danny. He was pretty sure Danny would find a way to stop him from falling out of the plane in the first place. 

His feelings for Danny were nowhere near parental, though. Even now, standing so close, Steve felt that sense of safety, but it was mixed with all the other things he tried to ignore most of the time. Like the heat of Danny’s body, which seeped into Steve all day in the car until he was nearly crazy with it by the end of the day. And the smell of him, the one that enveloped the whole car and made Steve’s pants too tight if he wasn’t careful.

“Hey,” Danny said, brow furrowing. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I just….” 

Fuck it.

He reached for Danny, pulling him close, their lips meeting before Danny was even settled against him. His mouth was hot and wet and everything that Steve remembered and more. That feeling of safety ran through Steve’s body in tandem with the heat and the want, the feeling only vaguely familiar from the night Deb died and he’d spent the night here. 

Kissing Catherine had been a lot of things. Passionate at times, comfortable at others, but never like this.

Never like home.

Fuck. 

Steve pulled away, clenching his fists to keep himself from reaching back out. “I’m sorry,” Steve said, rubbing his eyes with his hands to avoid looking at Danny. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—I mean, I can’t….”

Danny’s hands were warm on Steve’s wrists as he pulled them down to meet Steve’s gaze. “Hey, it’s okay,” Danny said quietly. “I get it.”

Something in Danny’s eyes bothered Steve, but he couldn’t stare long enough to figure it out, or he’d be in danger of kissing Danny again. And he couldn’t. Not now, not that he’d figured out—well, he wasn’t thinking about it, not while he was in Danny’s house. Not while he was in Danny’s presence. 

“I have—I mean, I should go,” Steve said, taking another step back, his hands coming out of Danny’s grip. 

Danny swallowed, the noise suddenly loud in the room. “Yeah, I, uh….yeah.” 

The look on his face mirrored whatever was in his eyes, but Steve couldn’t think about it now. He had to get out of there before he did something stupid. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Danny shoved his hands in his pocket, his smile reminding Steve of the days right after he’d found out about Charlie. “Tomorrow.”

“Night,” Steve managed, before he turned and fled. 

He got in the truck and drove off, making it three blocks, far enough that he could be sure Danny didn’t know he’d stopped before he pulled over to the curb and banged his head lightly on the steering wheel. 

Danny. How could Steve have missed it until now—how he needed Danny, especially when trauma struck, how he hadn’t wanted to leave Danny’s bed the day after Deb had died…how could he have not seen? 

He’d known he loved Danny for years—the man was his best friend, the only person who never deserted him. Ever. 

What he didn’t know was at what point during all that he’d fallen _in_ love with Danny.

***


	22. Chapter 22

“Shotgun.”

Danny balled his hands into fists to avoid strangling Steve. “There is no such thing as ‘shotgun’ on a commercial plane, Steven.”

“Actually,” Jerry said, “the co-pilot seat is technically the—“ 

A look from Danny silenced him. “Don’t give him any ideas,” Danny said. 

“It was a metaphorical ‘shotgun,’ Danny,” Steve said. “Meaning I get the other first class seat.”

“Of course you do,” Danny said with a sigh. Because Steve would be incapable of allowing anyone else to be closer to the cockpit than him. And it nicely managed what Steve had been doing since the prison escape—avoiding Danny outside of work.

Oh not so that it was overt or anything. No. He would still do group things, team things. And he’d still be around if Grace and Charlie were there. But apparently he couldn’t handle being alone with Danny when there wasn’t a case to distract them. He’d even gotten very good at distraction if they were driving during a case and Danny tried to bring up anything related to that night or that kiss. 

After the first day, and a rather terrifying—even for Steve—driving stunt that had taken years off Danny’s life, Danny had stopped trying during work. He got it. Steve didn’t want to talk about the kiss. Danny wasn’t really keen on it, either, but he was also very keen on Steve not avoiding him anymore, so if talking about it would accomplish that, he’d do it. Of course, that required Steve to actually have a conversation with him. Alone. Willingly. 

Though Danny hadn’t completely nixed the idea of locking him up to make him talk. 

But apparently that talk wasn’t happening tonight.

***

“Okay, I admit it,” Danny said, “chicken and waffles were better than I was expecting.” He pointed down at the chicken and rice on his plate. “But this,” he said, forking in another mouthful. “This is heaven. How do they make rice taste this good? It’s rice.”

Chicken and waffles had been the start of a day of sightseeing, and they were ending their day with dinner at a place that, despite being named Versailles like the French palace, made the best chicken and rice Danny had ever had. “How can you not know how tasty rice can be?” Steve asked. “We live in one of the best places in the world to get tasty rice.”

Danny shook his head as he swallowed another mouthful. “Nowhere in Hawaii makes rice this good.”

“Well, you’d better finish up,” Toast said, pushing his plate away, “or ask for a box, because we need to get back to the airport to make our flight.”

Danny finished his food while Toast took care of the bill. Steve slid out of the booth, Danny following close behind. He’d just stood up when he heard a strangled noise from the other side of the booth. He looked back to see Jerry holding his back, face screwed up in pain. 

“You okay?” Toast said, leaning over him.

Jerry shook his head. “My back does this sometimes,” he said. “I just need some heat and a comfortable seat and I’ll be okay in a day or so.”

Danny absolutely wasn’t happy that Jerry was hurt. But he wasn’t going to lose a chance, either. “Looks like you’re going to have to slum it back in coach with me,” Danny said to Steve.

“Yeah.”

He didn’t sound thrilled, but then, given his avoidance, Danny wasn’t expecting him to jump for joy. Didn’t matter. 

He couldn’t get out of it now. 

***

Danny listened to the sound of penguins pooping over and over again, every muscle in his body tensing up a little bit more with each noise. He hadn’t even fully gotten buckled in when Steve had started playing that game, and he’d barely given Danny a second glance. One might say he was a little too focused on the game, even for someone as competitive as Steve.

There was a ding before the seatbelt sign went off, and Danny considered several opening lines before finally going with, “So how’s Nahale?” 

Steve glanced away from the game for barely a second. “Okay,” he said, still playing. 

Really? That was it? “So he’s over his dad’s death, just like that?”

That at least got Danny a long look. “No, he’s just…he’s handling it.”

And of course Steve would say that. “Handling it how, exactly.”

Steve shrugged. “About as well as could be expected, considering,” he said before going back to the game.

“Okay,” Danny said, taking the phone out of Steve’s hands and shoving it in his own pocket. 

“Danny, I was in the middle of a game!”

“No,” Danny said, shaking his head, his voice low. “No, you weren’t in the middle of a game, you were in the middle of avoiding me, the way you’ve been avoiding me since the other night at my house, and I want to know why.”

Steve’s eyes shifted around, landing somewhere around Danny’s ear. “You’re imagining things.”

“No, I’m not.” Danny looked around and lowered his voice a little more. “Look, we….” Now that Danny had Steve’s attention, the words didn’t come as easily as he’d thought. “We’ve always been there for each other, right? Whatever we need. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

At least that was without hesitation, which let Danny’s shoulders relax just a little. “Okay, then, after everything the past year…why are you being so weird about the other night?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His tone as well as his inability to look Danny in the eye said otherwise. “Yes, you do.”

“I really don’t.”

“Okay, then, I’ll spell it out. It was one little kiss.” ‘Little’ might’ve been an understatement—it had been a fucking amazing kiss—but Danny had been doing a better job of ignoring that than he had of ignoring Steve’s avoidance and he was going to keep right on doing that, thank you very much. “I don’t get why you’re being so weird about it.”

“I’m not being weird.”

“Then what do you call avoiding me?”

“Self-preservation?”

And that, at least, held a hint of truth, one that made Danny frown. He’d have to sort that out later, though. “Excuse me?”

“Well, I mean, you do talk a lot, Danny—my ears need a break sometimes.”

And just like that the hint of truth was gone. “Okay,” Danny said, refusing to rise to the bait and be distracted. “So, you’re avoiding me out of self-preservation, huh?”

He wasn’t imagining the slight hint of fear in Steve’s eyes. Danny filed that away with the rest for study later. “Yeah. So now that we’ve established that, can I have my phone back?”

They’d settled nothing, but Danny wasn’t sure how to proceed, not until he sorted out the kernels of truth he’d found in the conversation. “No.” 

“You realize I could take it back, right?”

“You realize there’s an air marshal three rows ahead of us who’d have a big problem with that kind of fight?”

Steve huffed. “Fine. Then I’ll get some sleep.” He folded his arms over his chest, closed his eyes, and turned his head away. 

Danny rolled his eyes before turning and leaning against the window and closing his eyes. He thought about Steve’s ‘self-preservation’ comment, and how he’d been afraid when Danny had pursued that. Clearly he was afraid something, but exactly what scared a big, bad Navy SEAL, Danny had no idea, other than feelings.

Wait.

Danny rewound that night, remembering the kiss again, and Steve’s reaction. It had been a hell of a kiss, and right after Steve broke it off he’d run. Danny had thought he was embarrassed, but now he seemed scared. And he’d been avoiding Danny out of self-preservation.

The math was starting to add up, but Danny wasn’t sure if he was starting with the right numbers. He’d have to bide his time and watch carefully, see if he was right. This wasn’t the kind of thing he could fuck up, not now, not with Steve. The fallout would be unthinkable if he was wrong, on both sides—and on anyone within the blast radius. 

Maybe he’d sleep on it, just a bit.

***

The last remnants of a dream Danny could barely remember—nothing more than colors and light—faded as Danny woke to the sound of the jet engines and a few low conversations. The noise didn’t bother him, but it took a moment to realize why.

Steve’s arm was around Danny’s shoulder. Danny’s head was snug against Steve’s shoulder like it belonged there, and Danny could feel Steve’s cheek resting on Danny’s head. From the slow, even sound of Steve’s breathing, he was clearly asleep—though Danny knew if he hadn’t been, he’d never have been in this position. 

Score one more for Danny’s theory. 

He should move now, before Steve woke up and realized what he was doing, realized what he might be giving away—or at the very least freaked out even further. But he was so comfortable. And it was the best he’d slept in days. He really didn’t want to give that up. 

Didn’t want to give Steve up. 

All the more reason he should move. 

He considered that for a long moment, feeling the rise and fall of Steve’s chest, breathing in the heat and smell that he’d missed without even knowing it.

Fuck it. Let Steve deal with it if he woke up. Maybe it would yank his head out of his ass.

Danny snuggled back in and closed his eyes. 

***


	23. Chapter 23

Steve leaned against the wall on the lanai, watching Danny, Charlie and Grace play on the beach. Their sandcastle was starting to take shape, between Grace’s long-honed skill and Danny’s help with Charlie. Steve had waved off the invitation to join them, saying he was waiting for Chin to call. It wasn’t a lie, but Steve also wanted to watch, just for a few minutes. 

His phone rang, Chin’s face on the screen as Steve put the phone to his ear. “How’s Sarah?” Steve asked.

“Holding up,” Chin said, and Steve knew from experience what that probably looked like. In his case it had been pretending like nothing happened. In Mary’s, it had been pretending like she was suddenly 25 with the mentality of a three-year-old. 

“How are you?” Steve asked.

Chin’s long pause spoke volumes before he said, “Holding up.”

“Can we do anything for you?”

“No. I just need to stay with her for a while.”

“Take all the time you need, man. Let us know if we can help.”

“I will.” There were voices in the background before Chin said, “I have to go. I’ll check in later.”

Steve hung up, shoving his phone in his pocket as Danny approached. “That Chin?” Danny asked.

“Yeah.”

“How’s Sarah?”

“Holding up.”

Danny checked on the kids before looking at Steve again. “What does that mean?”

“That she’s not curled up in the fetal position crying?”

“I suppose that’s a start.” Danny’s attention continued to shift between the kids and Steve. “So are you done moping?”

Steve blinked. “Moping?”

“Or brooding, or whatever you were doing up here?”

“I was waiting for Chin’s call, Danny.” And possibly brooding just a little, but he wasn’t about to admit it. 

Danny’s look said Steve didn’t have to admit it. “Oh good, so since Chin has called, you can come join us?”

“Daddy!” Charlie called out. “My castle fell!” 

Steve could see that one of the turrets had fallen onto the ground. Easily fixed for someone over the age of ten, but Danny looked like he’d just been asked to rescue someone from a burning building. “You coming?” he asked Steve.

“I’ll be right there.” At Danny’s look, Steve said, “I will be right there. Really.”

Danny frowned, but he turned and jogged back down to the beach. The look on Danny’s face when Charlie had called for his help was one Steve wished he could see more often. Pure joy in something so simple as his kids wanting to play with him. 

The three of them on the beach looked so familiar in some ways, ways Steve didn’t examine very often. The memories wouldn’t be held back this time, though. Steve and Mary on the beach, mostly getting along while working on their own castle, their dad helping, Mom a constant presence in the background. She’d show up with snacks, or be filming and taking pictures, like she had to store up the memories for a rainy day.

Which made so much sense now.

As did the feeling of family Steve had with Danny and his kids. He’d realized at Christmas how he’d stopped feeling like any kind of an outsider in Danny’s little family. Had he been in love with Danny then and not known?

He had, he was sure of it now. Hindsight was brutally clear. The question now was at what point he hadn’t been in love with Danny.

 _Before he punched you in the face,_ his ever-helpful brain supplied. Which was crazy. You couldn’t fall in love with someone a few hours after you met them.

But you could start.

The flight back from LA had been terrifying in so many ways. Steve had been subtly avoiding being alone with Danny, avoided any chance to lose his head and do or say something stupid, something he couldn’t take back, something that would ruin their friendship forever. 

And then he’d woken up on the plane with Danny warm and solid in his arms. 

It had felt so right, and Danny clearly wasn’t bothered, that Steve had just gone back to sleep. When he’d woken again, Danny was leaning against the window, eyes still closed. No way to know if Danny had even realized they’d been practically cuddling. And Steve sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

Because no matter what they’d done, how they’d slept together or even done more than just slept, Danny was still with Melissa. And whatever he and Steve had done didn’t mean that Danny was interestd in dumping his hot, young girlfriend for his very male partner. 

It wasn’t even a topic Steve could broach. THEY weren’t a topic Steve could broach. He didn’t have the words. 

“Uncle Steve! Come look!” 

Charlie’s call was impossible to ignore. Steve pushed the thoughts aside for later and ran down to join them on the beach. 

***


	24. Chapter 24

“Am I ready to be a dad?” 

Chin’s words echoed in Steve’s head as he drove away from the hospital. He hadn’t had an answer for that, wasn’t sure he knew what kind of answer to give. Danny was, in Steve’s admittedly limited experience, the best Dad ever, and he would bet money that Danny had never once questioned whether he was ready. But certainly plenty of people had, and that didn’t mean they had all turned out to be horrible parents.

Not that their line of work really bred people who were meant to be good parents. Too much danger, too much violence, and too much of a chance that they’d never come home. It was what stopped Steve every time he wanted to open up his home to Nahale, to give the kid a place to stay, a home, and some semblance of a family. Steve wasn’t sure he wouldn’t just end up another in a long line of disappointments for Nahale. Or desert him after offering him stability, by dying on the streets somewhere. 

But again, that hadn’t stopped Danny. Or many other officers and soldiers. 

Of course, everything seemed to come back to Danny, so why wouldn’t he be the one Steve would think of first? The one he thought of a lot more than he should, the one he’d been wanting to check on ever since Danny had driven off—at Steve’s insistence, because Danny had Grace and Charlie tomorrow and needed some sleep and some time to decompress to be in the right frame of mind—while Steve went to check on the situation at the hospital.

He worried about Danny more than he should. Worried for Grace and Charlie, of course, and for Clara and Eddie and Eric, and all the members of Danny’s family he hadn’t met. The fact that Steve felt cold and nauseous at the thought of anything happening to Danny was inconsequential in the face of what Danny’s family would lose. 

But the thought made him sick nonetheless. 

Fuck it. 

He turned the truck around and headed for Danny’s house.

***

Danny was on the couch when Steve walked in. He craned his neck over his shoulder to see who it was, even though Steve was pretty sure he was the only one who just waltzed right into the house at this time of night. “We got a case?” Danny asked.

Steve shook his head. “No,” he said, as he paced over to the middle of the room. “But I just came from the hospital. Gabriel’s dead.”

Danny nodded, as if it wasn’t that big of a shock. Then again, they had been running the guy all over downtown with a gaping gunshot wound, so the outcome had been somewhat predictable. “How’s Chin?”

Steve shrugged, taking a few steps closer. “Upset,” Steve said. “Like he thinks he could’ve changed the guy who killed his father. Like that was even possible?” Steve folded his arms over his chest. “Like, what, Gabriel spouts a couple of apologies as he’s dying, and professes concern for a kid he put in danger, and that makes him an okay guy somehow?”

It didn’t take Steve’s personal catalog of Danny’s faces to tell that Danny was choosing his words carefully. “It’s harder when the guy happens to be your brother-in-law,” Danny said, the words slow as he pushed off the couch and crossed the room. “Harder when he’s related to someone you loved so much, when you can see that person in him. Especially if that person is gone.”

Which…yeah. It made sense. Grace could become a mass murderer and there would always be that need in Steve to redeem her, because he could see so much of Danny in her. Would never be able to unsee it, no matter what she did. 

Steve’s sudden need to help Matt escape, to absolve Danny of the guilt in that, made a whole new level of sense. Of course, that hadn’t worked out so well, but he’d do it again and again. Because any other option was unthinkable. Because he couldn’t stand seeing Danny in pain.

Danny, who was standing there looking like he knew everything going on in Steve’s head right now, like he knew every thought and was waiting for Steve to get to whatever conclusion Danny had already figured out. “Gabriel asked Chin to take care of Sarah,” Steve said. 

“Is he gonna adopt her?” 

Steve shrugged. “He’s not sure what he’s going to do. If he’s ready to be a dad. I mean…our jobs…they’re not…but then, too, you think life is just going to go on the way it is, but it doesn’t always, and then that chance you’re looking for never really happens, and then it’s too late—“ 

Rambling was rare for him, and he cut it off before it could get any further, but Danny seemed to want to figure it out. “You’re not making any sense,” Danny said.

No, maybe not to Danny, but it was making sense inside, and Steve needed to act, he needed to do something. “I know,” he said, fists clenching under his arms before he dropped them to his sides. “Look, can I just…I just need to—“

He didn’t have the words, so he reached for Danny instead, hands on Danny’s waist, pulling him in as his head dipped. This never got old, if anything it was more amazing every time, and Steve gave in to the need to search out every corner of Danny’s mouth, hands busy mapping his back as Danny melted into him. 

It felt like forever before Steve let go, eyes closed, forehead pressed against Danny’s. He could feel Danny breathing just as heavily as he was, could still taste Danny in his own mouth, feel the press of Danny’s body against his own. It was that feeling he chased in dreams every night, the one he buried himself into when things got bad, when he woke up at 3 a.m. from nightmares from some distant land—or sometimes from Hawaii itself. It was the one place, the one feeling where he felt safe. At home. 

But home never lasted.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, pushing away, pulling out of Danny’s embrace even though every fiber wanted to stay. Maybe because of it. “I know what you said, that I can’t make someone ready for something they’re not ready for. And I know you might never be ready, but I had to…I just, I needed to do that.”

He took a few more steps back, not quite looking at Danny. “I should go,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hurried for the door, not daring to look back.

***


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done! I feel happy and bereft all at once. Thanks to everyone who read, commented, cheered me on, offered wine and just listened to me bitch. And a huge thanks to smudgegirl, who read first, found errors, and assured me that it did not suck. 
> 
> Now on to a summer full of the 'do I really want to do this to myself next year?' question... :)

Danny hadn’t been sure what to expect when his phone rang, Steve’s smirk lighting up the screen. That kiss the night before had been something, and Danny still hadn’t figured out what to say about it. Or if to say anything at all. 

Of all the things he had expected to hear Steve say, though, “The CIA is taking me somewhere,” had not been one.

“The CIA?” Danny asked. “As in the CIA that tried to kill us?”

“No, Danny. I checked it out. This is legit.”

“What do they want?”

“I don’t know. I only know someone wants to talk to me.”

 _Don’t go._ It was on the tip of Danny’s tongue, but he couldn’t say it, even if he was already planning his packing list for whatever hotbed of terrorism he was going to have to visit to save Steve’s ass this time. “They didn’t give you any hint?”

“No, and if I don’t hurry up and go, I may never find out.” 

Danny forced down the protest again. He knew there was every chance this had something to do with Doris, and he knew Steve deserved closure on that front, if nothing else. “Call me when you can?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Don’t get dead, all right? I think we’ve used up our allotment of favors to save you in foreign countries.”

“Got it. Danny….” There was a long pause before Steve said, his tone different, “I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“Yeah.”

He hung up, tossing the phone on the bed beside him and rubbing his eyes. Of course the CIA was dragging Steve off at the break of dawn. They didn’t keep civilized hours—in fact, he would be surprised if they slept at all. Vampires didn’t need sleep, did they?

And now that he was awake, he couldn’t go back to sleep. All he could do was lie there and think about that kiss. Or, rather, multiple kisses, since it was way too long to be just one, and Steve had been very thorough. 

And then he’d run.

Danny didn’t need ESP to know Steve wasn’t likely to ever bring the kiss up. Not with what he’d said after. He’d made it clear he thought Danny was the one who wasn’t ready. And Danny had been fuming mad about that for all of about five minutes, until he realized that Steve had put himself out there with that kiss, and he’d left. 

And Danny hadn’t followed.

If he’d been ready, he would’ve stormed right over to Steve’s without a second thought. Hell, he’d have caught Steve before he got into his truck. So maybe Steve had been right. Maybe Danny had been confused all along. Or maybe neither of them had been ready until now, and now Steve was, and Danny, well….

That was the question he needed to answer before Steve got back.

They were already so close. If Danny gave Steve any more of a hold on him, Danny might never be a whole person again. Because Steve was reckless and a danger to everyone, but especially to himself, what with all his delusions of being bullet proof. And that would be a tough thing to live with if Danny was sharing his bed. 

The thought of losing Steve made Danny ill. If he gave in and they got that much closer, what would Steve’s inevitable death at the hands of some asshole do to him? Losing Matt had almost destroyed Danny. He wasn’t sure he could handle losing Steve if he let him that last little bit inside. 

The phone rang again, Grace smiling up from it, and Danny put on a smile as he started the best part of his day.

***

Steve slowed to the speed limit as he got closer to HQ. He wasn’t exactly nervous about seeing Danny, he just wasn’t sure if Danny was going to bring up the kiss. He hadn’t on the phone, but knowing Danny he could just be waiting to do it face to face. Or he could be planning to never talk about it. 

Thirty-four hours on a plane had given Steve enough time to realize that he couldn’t have done anything else. His palms itched to grab Danny when he was near. It was going to be impossible to hide, so there was no point. 

Unfortunately, thirty-four hours hadn’t given him enough time to figure out if Danny was going to be okay with that, or if Danny was going to be…something else. What that might be Steve had spent a lot longer than thirty-four hours contemplating, and he wasn’t sure he liked any of the answers he’d come up with.

Then again, Danny had stopped bothering him about the last time he’d done the same thing, so maybe he was worrying for nothing. 

He’d find out soon, since he was pulling into the parking lot at HQ. He hadn’t even sat down behind his desk before Danny there, and Steve braced himself for whatever he might say. 

“I see the CIA left you unharmed and even brought you home.”

All things considered, that was a good start. “Yeah. But it’s nice to know Morocco is still nice this time of year.”

Danny blinked. “Morocco?” he said. “What’s in Morocco?”

“Wo Fat’s father,” Steve said, as he sat down on the edge of his desk.

“Wo Fat’s fa—you know what?” Danny said, as he dropped onto the couch, “I’m gonna sit down for this one.” 

Steve told him about Wo Fat’s father’s forgiveness, Danny’s skepticism matching his own, though Steve didn’t go into that. “Did he mention Doris?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah. Yeah, he mentioned Doris briefly. He said that despite my mother’s betrayal, he still loved her. The fact that she looked after his son for as long as she did, whether it was out of guilt or pity or a sense of duty, he said he was grateful for that.”

Before Steve could go any further, Nahele burst in with a problem far more important than an old man’s whims.

***

“You want us to do what?” Danny asked, leaning against the computer table.

“It’s a great plan, Danny,” Steve said. “We get him to hire us to fly him out to get the drugs, then bring him and the drugs in all at once. Maybe if we’re lucky we’ll get the connection at the other end, too, but if not, we have leverage to get him to flip on his contacts off island.”

“Okay, see, this? This is a terrible plan.”

Steve threw his hands up, because, of course, Danny had an objection. “Here we go.”

“No, really, this plan is horrible. A,” Danny said, holding up a finger, “don’t you think most bad guys know 5-0? Second,” he held up two fingers, “this guy will probably shoot us on sight when he recognizes us.”

“Danny, the dealer and the pilot didn’t know who we were. Clearly this operation didn’t bother to do any research. He’s not going to recognize us.”

“And if he does?”

“Then we shoot first, okay?”

Danny glared and Steve told his body that was absolutely not attractive. Not even a little bit. “Fine,” Danny said, pushing off the table. “But if he shoots at us, I’m diving behind you, so you take all the bullets.”

“Fine.”

“Then let’s go talk to this guy.”

***

Danny twisted a lug nut with a wrench—at least he thought it was a lug nut—for the tenth time. “Is this guy showing up sometime soon?” he asked. “Because this thing is going to be worn out from all the turning I’m doing trying to look like a mechanic.”

“You don’t actually have to look like one until he gets here.”

Clearly Steve had never heard of getting into character. “And as he’s walking up, when we won’t necessarily know he’s watching.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, and Danny resisted the urge to throw the wrench at him. Seriously, the guy was driving Danny nuts, between the casual dismissal of very realistic concerns and walking around with half his jumpsuit off and that tank top on, making him look like the cover for Pilot Porn magazine. Like the hundred degree heat wasn’t bad enough?

“He’s coming,” Steve said, as he started tinkering with the plane. “Now you can start looking like a mechanic.”

Danny twisted the lug nut again and absolutely did not dream about throwing the wrench. 

***

The whole way to the Green Island atoll, Danny wondered if they’d be met by people with guns. He’d been relieved to find only the cargo, even though it meant they didn’t have any other faces to track down later if they didn’t get what they needed from this guy. But on the whole, it meant everything was going to plan.

Until he relaxed.

The radar alert wasn’t too concerning—it wasn’t like the area lacked for small planes and helicopters. The lack of markings and how it came alongside them, however, was concerning, as was Steve’s sudden attention. 

And then the bullets started flying. 

_No holes._ Danny’s first thought about himself was followed quickly by a check of Steve. His stomach sunk as he saw Steve hunched over the controls—or possibly that sinking feeling was due to the plane taking a dive. 

Danny pulled Steve back, his brain actually going blank of anything other than _blood, so much blood_ for a second. _Get it together, Danny!_ Right. Right. Fly the plane, Steve definitely won’t live if you crash.

Danny called in a mayday, realizing after the response that he was going to have to break his cover if he wanted to get the best assistance. Steve’s life was more important than their cover.

Dae Won took that revelation predictably well, which landed Danny in a fucking Mexican standoff while the plane started diving again. Showing a heretofore unseen self-preservation instinct, though, Dae Won backed off after Danny dropped his gun and took the controls again. 

Hearing Steve ‘Mr. Optimistic’ McGarrett himself saying he was going to die did nothing to help Danny’s nerves. He forced those thoughts aside and focused on the instructions from air traffic control. Clearly Dae Won did not have a clue how closely his own survival was tied to Steve’s, because he was not the most cooperative—who the hell made it out of grade school without knowing how to find a pulse for fuck’s sake?

Of course the fuel was shot. 

Of course they were never going to make it to the runway.

Of course the engines went out. And they wanted him to put the plane in the water—just great, his two favorite things, planes and water. What next, did they want him to hide in a closet for the landing?

He checked Steve, who still wasn’t responding. Fuck. If they put it in the water, Steve would drown, no two ways about it.

No fucking way was that happening. Been there, done that, got the fucking t-shirt, not going there again with his best friend, thank you very much. 

Air traffic control didn’t seem to understand any more than Dae Won that this was never, ever happening. But neither one of them was flying the fucking plane, and they could fuck right off, because Danny was giving that sand some payback for years of getting everywhere and slamming this fucking plane the hell into it.

He buckled Steve in, babbling words at him that he wasn’t even sure of, only that the gist was DO NOT DIE. The beach looked a lot more threatening the closer they got, but it was too late to do anything but aim the plane and hope for the best now.

Bone jarring didn’t even come close to describing the landing, but he was mostly in one piece once the slide stopped. More importantly, Steve was still breathing. Their team was there in an instant, helping to pull Steve out, getting paramedics and making sure that asshole responsible for this didn’t get away.

Danny really loved his team.

He did not, however, love the look of Steve on the stretcher, or all the holes in him. He’d lost so much blood on the plane, and more of it was just everywhere the whole ambulance ride. But he didn’t give up, and when they wheeled him into Tripler, Danny took a breath for the first time in what felt like forever. 

Which is when his broken ribs made themselves known.

Too fucking bad—he didn’t care any more about them right now than he had the instructions not to land the plane on the beach. He went straight for HQ, his team right behind him, didn’t stop until he reached the rendition room and Dae Won.

“I think I need to see a doctor.”

 _If you don’t now, you will when I’m done with you, asshole._ The punch hurt his arms and his ribs, but Danny didn’t care. “Who were the guys in the helicopter, huh? Were they business rivals? I want a name. You need to give me a name.” _Or else that bullet with that guy’s name on it will go in you._

He was almost disappointed when Dae Won gave him a name before he had another chance to punch him. 

***

Danny brushed off the questions about how he was doing as they geared up for the raid. He was fine, didn’t they understand? Steve was the one in a hospital room fighting for his life, and Danny was going to make the sons of bitches who caused that pay. And it was going to hurt them a hell of a lot more than his ribs were hurting him.

He looked through the sea of people and bullets for that face he would never forget, finding it on the man who was running away like a coward. Running away like he had some right to live when Steve was…Steve….

Steve was going to be fine.

The guy’s gun was nowhere near him, and he was helpless on the ground, goading Danny to shoot him like a punk. His finger itched to pull the trigger. It was more effort to stop it from moving, the action such a reflex, especially with his brain telling him to _shoot shoot shoot_. 

Marco Reyes’ face flashed before his eyes, a bullet hole neatly situated in his forehead. Danny had done that, and he’d nearly lost himself in the aftermath. Nearly left his family, his friends, Steve, just to find some peace.

He couldn’t do that. Not again. No matter how much he wanted to watch this guy’s brain get drilled. He couldn’t. 

He had to stay, and he had to keep himself from ending up where he’d been after Reyes. 

He turned away, the effort almost painful as he holstered his gun. SWAT ran to arrest the asshole as Danny answered his phone. 

“Detective Williams, this is Nurse Kelekolio at Tripler. Commander McGarrett is out of surgery, but there’ve been complications. Doctor Cornett would like you to come as quick as you can, please.”

She hung up before he could even answer—though what kind of answer could you give to that? 

“What is it?” Chin asked.

“It’s Steve,” Danny said, already heading for the door, because she’d said quick as you can. “Come on.”

***

The news was unexpected—Danny had figured there was no way his organs had been missed—but the one tiny ray of hope was that it was the liver. Of all the organs, it was the one that could grow back if it had the right starting pieces. Finding one was usually the problem, but Danny was right there and more than willing. 

He asked Kono to go get Grace, so he could explain everything to her, and because he knew she’d freak out more if she didn’t get to see him first. When Kono was gone, Danny asked for a minute alone with Steve. They gave him that, and he stood there, staring at Steve with all the machines keeping him from never breathing again. 

“Look, I know you’d be the first one to say not risk this for you, but…it’s not just for you. A lot of people here need you. I….” Danny took a deep breath. “I need you. And you deserve a happy ending after everything. Not this. And I’m going to make sure you get it, if it’s the last thing I do.”

He wanted to touch, but he didn’t know where to put his hand that wouldn’t cause a problem, so he settled for putting a hand on the railing on the side of the bed. “Besides, don’t think you’re getting out of that kiss and run so easily. I have to keep you around just to make you answer for that. So you better wake up, or I’m gonna chase your ass into the afterlife. Got it? Good.” 

He walked out of the room and was pulled into a flurry of activity, with tests and treatment of his other wounds and a host of other preparation. The doctor was explaining what was going to happen, but Danny was only half listening for anything that didn’t sound like all the information he’d heard before he’d donated bone marrow.

The rest of his brain was focused on Steve. Danny hadn’t chased after him after that kiss the other night, hadn’t forced the issue after the first kiss, and for what? The fear that he was going to be hurt more if Steve died? Impossible—the pain he’d been feeling since he’d seen all that blood in the plane was like a giant crack in the earth that would swallow him whole if he let it in all at once.

There was no way it could be more painful than this if they got together and Steve died. What _would_ be more painful would be never getting that chance. Years of regret and no way to do anything about it, because Steve was gone. 

“Doc,” Danny said, “do me a favor. Let’s just go in there and get it over with.” The sooner it was done, the sooner Steve would be awake and Danny could explain that they were both giant idiots. He’d use pictures and graphs if he had to. 

Then Grace was there, and she was crying, and Danny put on a smile for her, pulling her into a hug. He barely felt the pain spike from his ribs when he hugged her. He wiped her tears and told her he’d see her after, that compared to bone marrow this was a walk in the park, and not to worry. She smiled, even though her eyes were still suspiciously watery, and gave him another hug before she had to let go, her, “Love you, Danno,” all he needed to hear before he went under. 

***

His mouth felt like he had cotton stuffed in it, and his hand itched, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it. Danny forced his eyes open, frowning as he took in his surroundings. Hospital. But that had been months ago, hadn’t it? Charlie was fine, the transplant had—

Transplant. Right. Steve.

Danny looked around, finding the call button and reaching for it with more effort than he really hoped it would take. He pressed it, though, and a moment later, a nurse walked in. “How are you feeling, Detective?” she asked.

“Like I got hit by a bus.” The words cost him, and he cleared his throat gingerly before he said, “Steve?”

“Commander McGarrett is doing well so far.” 

“So far?” Damn, he really needed to stop talking. It hurt.

The nurse was checking the machines hooked up to Danny. “Yes, we’re cautiously optimistic.” 

He knew those words, and they could mean anything from, ‘He has a paper cut,’ to, ‘He’s going to die any minute but I’m not telling you.’ “Can I see him?”

She shook her head. “You can’t get up just yet.”

Like hell. He’d just given up half of his liver to save Steve. He wanted to see him with his own eyes, and he didn’t care how much his throat hurt as he asked, “Can’t wheel me down there?”

She frowned at the machine. “Detective, calm down. I promise the Commander is fine, you just need a little more rest before we move you at all.”

Which he totally understood, but what she didn’t understand was how Danny had watched Steve slowly bleeding out on a crashing plane. He _needed_ to see Steve. “Need to see him.”

“Let me get the doctor,” she said, hurrying out of the room. 

Danny was judging the distance to the door, trying to decide if he could make it, when Doctor Cornett walked in. “Glad to see you’re awake, Detective,” Cornett said, giving the machines the same once over the nurse had. 

“I want to see Steve.”

“Yes, the nurse mentioned that.” Cornett picked up Danny’s chart and wrote something on it. “She said you were rather adamant about it.”

“Is something wrong?”

“He’s doing well, all things considered.” Cornett put the chart down. “But he’s not able to have visitors yet. And you’re not able to be moved yet.”

Danny shifted in the bed, his side making it known that it wasn’t a fan of that idea. It didn’t stop him from wanting to get up and go find Steve’s room anyway. “When can I see him?”

“If things go well, we might be able to put you in a room with him tonight,” Cornett said. “But for that to happen, you need to sleep now.”

“I don’t want to sleep, I want to see Steve.” He moved again, this time enough that his side felt like someone had driven a spear into it. But at least it distracted him from the pain in his throat from talking.

The pain did not go unnoticed by the doctor, though. “Tell you what,” Cornett said, reaching for a switch by the bed. “Why don’t we make you a little more comfortable so you can get some rest, and when you wake up, you can see your friend. Okay?”

At Danny’s reluctant nod, Cornett pushed the switch. “I promise you, we’re not hiding anything. Commander McGarrett is strong and healthy, and the transplant went well. We have every reason to believe he’s going to make a full recovery. So get some sleep so you can help him with that. Can you do that?”

Danny nodded again, already feeling sleepy. 

“Good. We’ll move you as soon as we can.” 

Cornett headed for the door, but Danny didn’t stay awake long enough to see him leave.

***

Something was wrong, but Steve was having a hard time remembering what, as he fought his way out of sleep. Danny. Danny had checked the radar and—shit! Steve pushed through the sleep, expecting guns and God only knew what.

What he got was quiet, except for a faint hum of machines, and an antiseptic smell he recognized from more hospitals than anyone should have visited in one life. That, combined with that heavy fatigue and unwillingness to move reserved for the more serious injuries, told Steve everything he needed to know before he opened his eyes.

He was unsurprised to find himself in a hospital bed, though the amount of equipment hooked to him was a little unsettling. He tried to move his hand to check for injuries, but he couldn’t find the energy to lift it.

The door opened, a nurse stepping in, smiling as she met his eyes. “You’re awake,” she said, moving forward quickly. Her eyes scanned the machines he knew must be over his shoulder before scanning his face again. “How do you feel?”

Steve winced, swallowing carefully before getting out the halting words. “What happened?”

“You’re going to be okay,” she said, which was not nearly as comforting as she probably meant it to be. “Let me go get the doctor, and he’ll explain.”

She left before he could ask her to explain it herself, and Steve watched the door impatiently, fighting off sleep, until the doctor came through. “Commander McGarrett,” he said, “I’m Doctor Cornett.” The doctor made the same check of the machines and Steve’s face as the nurse. “I understand you want to know what happened, so I’ll do my best to explain everything.”

He checked Steve’s chart before focusing on Steve again. “You were shot,” Cornett said. “I’m sure Detective Williams can give you a more detailed story on that.” Those words alone were enough to calm Steve down a little—clearly Danny was okay if he could tell the story. “But one of the bullets got into your liver, and you needed a transplant.”

A transplant? That couldn’t be good news—it was a small island and transplants weren’t exactly easy to come by. 

Wait—needed? Past tense?

“Fortunately,” the doctor continued, “Detective Williams was a match. So we gave you part of his liver, and all early indications are that you’re going to be fine.”

For a moment the words didn’t even make sense. “Danny…gave me his liver?”

He shifted to look at the doctor, a move that made his stomach burn, the pain of what he now knew was probably an incision from a…holy fuck, from a liver transplant. The last thing he remembered he’d been flying a plane, and now he was lying in the hospital with Danny’s liver inside him.

“Yes. He was rather adamant about doing it, actually.”

He knew there was probably a lot more to the story—about his injuries, about the plane, about Danny—but he could feel sleep pulling at him. “When…can I…see Danny?” he managed, even as his eyes were slipping closed.

“Soon,” was the last thing he heard before sleep claimed him again.

***

The first thing Danny noticed when he woke again was that the room was different. The walls weren’t the same color, and the noise the machines made had changed. No…they hadn’t changed, there was just more of them.

He turned his head to the side to see Steve lying a few feet away. He was so still in sleep, more still than usual, but just seeing him settled something inside Danny. He couldn’t help but catalog all the differences in Steve since the plane—the color coming back slowly, no longer that sickly gray he’d been. And the steady rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his breathing that Danny could just make out over the beeping of the machines.

He closed his eyes, listening to that rhythm until it lulled him to sleep.

***

This time when Steve woke up, he at least knew where he was before he opened his eyes. Or almost where he was, he realized, as he was in a different room. He managed to turn his head, wincing at the pain even that motion caused in about a dozen places. Pain that was totally worth it, though, when he saw Danny sleeping in another bed a few feet away.

He studied Danny’s sleeping form carefully, looking for signs of a halo or maybe some wings peeking out from under his back. Because for all that Steve bitched about Danny’s bitching, about how he worried about the worst possible outcomes on everything…the guy was always there. Anyone who needed them, Danny was there. The state of Hawaii needed saving, Danny was there. The kid Danny had only learned was his five seconds before needed bone marrow? Danny was there. Steve needed a liver? Danny was there. 

He’d already owed Danny so much…this tipped the scale so far that Steve would never be able to repay it. He didn’t even know where to start, and his brain was so fuzzy he couldn’t put any of his thoughts in enough order to try to figure it out. 

Though from what he had gathered, fuzzy was a lot better than how he’d be feeling without all the good drugs. 

He wouldn’t wake Danny, not after Danny had done so much. Not even if Steve desperately wanted to hear the story, to find out how Danny had gotten them onto the ground from the plane, or how Danny had just jumped at the chance to give Steve a liver. Or even just to hear Danny’s voice and know he was really okay.

No, Danny had earned the right to sleep. Steve would just have to stay awake until Danny woke up. He could do it, it wasn’t like the drugs were trying to force his eyes closed.

***

Danny opened his eyes, focusing on the sound that had had lulled him to sleep—Steve’s breathing. He frowned as he realized it sounded different, and turned his head to see Steve awake and looking in Danny’s direction. 

“Hey,” Steve said. It was one word, and his voice was faint and rough, but it was the best word Danny had heard in a while.

“Don’t talk,” Danny said. “My liver will have plenty of time to hear you run your mouth for years.”

Steve’s eyes lit up, but he managed not to laugh, which Danny knew was a good thing, even if he desperately wanted to hear that sound. Despite the order not to talk—or possibly because of it, you never could tell with Steve—Steve cleared his throat and said, “Danny…thank you. What you did….”

Danny shrugged, the movement making his stitches cause little stabbing needle sensations all along the incision. “Kamekona was first in line,” Danny said, “but his liver actually turned out to be a giant shrimp, so I had to jump in and save you instead.”

That time Steve did try to laugh, which cost him even more than the speaking, judging by his expression. When the pain subsided a little, Steve spoke again. “You can joke,” he said, the words slow and labored, “but I owe you my life. And I won’t waste the gift you gave me.”

“Good,” Danny said, swallowing hard against everything that threatened to climb out of his gut right then and there. Now wasn’t the time. “Then close your mouth and your eyes and get some sleep so my liver can adjust to its new insane home. Okay?”

Steve’s smile was soft, but it was real, and Danny had to clamp down on all those emotions again. “Okay, Danno,” Steve said, before he closed his eyes. In less than a minute his breathing had evened out into sleep.

Danny watched for a long time before he slept.

***

Danny woke to a brighter room—daylight made a difference, no matter how many fluorescent lights they tried to use, especially in a hospital. He shifted, breathing a little better for the first time in days when the move didn’t make his stitches—or his ribs—stab him. 

Steve was still asleep. Danny had spent a fair amount of time watching him do just that whenever he’d woken, ten minutes here, five minutes there, and he didn’t even feel the least bit creepy about it. Because Steve had almost died. Danny had put his hand on Steve’s gut, felt all that blood, he’d heard Steve tell him he was dying, and the whole thing, even without the need to intentionally crash a plane on the beach was enough to fuel Danny’s nightmares for the rest of his life.

So if he wanted to watch Steve sleep, he would fucking watch Steve sleep.

Steve still hadn’t stirred when they come in to give Danny lunch, since apparently Danny had slept through breakfast. He was just finishing his soup when Steve woke. Danny noticed there was much less wincing as Steve moved a little as he woke up, the sight somehow making it a little easier for Danny to breathe. 

“Hey,” Steve said, with a soft smile that made Danny’s heart flip over. 

“Hey yourself.” Danny pushed the tray away from his lap, moving around just a little to see how much his body would stand. “How you feeling?” he asked Steve.

“Less like I got hit by a bus,” Steve said.

Danny laughed a little, pleased when it didn’t hurt much. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, it’s down to a small elephant, I think.”

The words amused Danny more than they should, the feeling startling, lessening the residual pain that the drugs weren’t killing all of. No, not the amusement. Something else, something far more intangible and precious. 

He’d almost lost this forever, the feeling and the man along with it, and before he’d had the balls to do anything to hold on. But he hadn’t lost it. He had another chance, and the longer he waited, the more he risked losing it for good.

Danny pushed himself up into a sitting position slowly, mindful of the broken ribs and stiches and the shunt in his arm. He managed to swing his feet over the edge of the bed before Steve realized what he was doing. 

“What the hell, Danny?” Steve said, his voice stronger, though still nowhere near its normal level. “You’ll bust your stitches.”

“I’ve been up once already,” Danny said as he tested his feet. Of course, he’d had a nurse holding him up at the time, so he was pleased when his feet stayed underneath him. 

The short distance to Steve’s bed felt like a mile, but Danny crossed it, because this was important. Up close, as he leaned on the railing of Steve’s bed, he could see the exhaustion in the lines Steve’s face, the way his skin was still much more pale than its normal sun-soaking tan.

It was all secondary to the warmth and concern in Steve’s eyes, though, and that gave Danny the last bit of courage he needed to say what he had to say.

“Now that you’ve risked making yourself sick,” Steve said, “what was so important that you had to do that?”

His voice had been husky since he woke, but up close Danny could hear the layers of warmth mixed into the hoarseness. Danny swallowed, trying to figure out where to start. 

“When you said what you said the other night,” Danny said finally, “about not being able to make someone ready for something…I meant that about you when I said it.” Danny swallowed again. “It wasn’t until you ran off that I realized it applied to me, too.”

He gripped the rail a little tighter. “I’ve thought about it, why I was running, too. And I’m an idiot. I was already picturing a future where you’d done some insane stunt that had gotten you killed, and just the hint of what that would feel like was enough to keep me from even trying.”

Steve was listening intently, that little furrow between his brow showing his concentration, but his eyes were still soft and warm as they studied Danny’s face. “It wasn’t until you were shot that I realized I’d feel that way regardless. But if I didn’t at least try, I’d have all those regrets on top of it, and I can’t…I can’t live with that. I know that now.

“When you said you were dying…it didn’t make any difference that we weren’t together. And when the hospital called me back here to tell me about your liver, it didn’t make any difference. The thought of losing you…if I didn’t see you for the next fifty years and I got a call that you’d…that you were gone…no amount of time, no amount of inaction would make it hurt any less.”

Danny looked for a spot where he could touch Steve, settled for placing his hand gingerly on Steve’s thigh, his thumb brushing against the edge of Steve’s hand. “I’m done running,” Danny said. “And I hope you are, too.”

“I couldn’t run if I wanted to,” Steve said, nodding faintly in the direction of his abdomen. “Can’t for months.” 

“Jerk.”

Danny slowly started to turn back towards his bed, but Steve managed to slide his hand enough to get his pinky over Danny’s hand. “Hey.” Danny met Steve’s gaze, warmed at the look there. “I don’t want to run,” Steve said. “Not anymore.”

The look that went with the words spoke volumes, and Danny smiled, turning his hand over to clasp Steve’s. “Okay,” Danny said. “Okay. That’s good.” He managed a grin. “Of course, you realize that we’ve both stopped running right when there is literally nothing we can do about it for ages, right?”

Steve’s smile was like the sun, as far as Danny was concerned. “Look at it as recovery motivation.”

“I hate you so much.”

Steve’s smile grew. “No, you don’t.”

Danny shook his head, laughing a little. “No, I guess I don’t.”

***

Steve didn’t protest the wheelchair ride out of the hospital. He knew it was the only way they’d let him go, and he wasn’t about to miss his shot to go home. He’d thought it was tough lying in that room with Danny so close and yet not in his bed, the frustration with that and slow recovery seeping into their banter, making it even sharper than usual.

But when Danny had been discharged—a couple of days later than probably necessary, and Steve hadn’t quite figured out how to thank the doctor for that—the room had been almost unbearable. Luckily, Danny was still on doctor’s orders not to work and had come to visit a lot, which helped. He’d brought Grace and Charlie, which had helped even more. 

Steve had focused on sleeping as much as he could to help recover faster, but as he started to feel a little better, he could only sleep so much at a time. Those were the times he realized just what Danny had meant, how horrible this would be if he didn’t have Danny to look forward to, even if they hadn’t had that talk, if he was staring at a future without Danny in it.

But he wasn’t. He was facing a future _with_ Danny, and however scary that thought was, any other future was unthinkable. 

Danny was there to help him into the car, letting Steve dictate the amount of support he needed. Steve held on a little more than was really necessary, happy for the feel of Danny, the smell of him so close. 

As the door closed, Steve’s eyes followed suit, only opening when Danny was behind the wheel again. Steve stared at him, even though he’d been at the hospital all morning, waiting for Steve’s release. 

Danny gave him a grin before pulling carefully out of the parking spot, his motions still clearly hindered a little by the transplant—not to mention his healing ribs, which Steve had been trying not to think about.

On the one hand, it was frustrating, having no memory of everything that had happened. He had tried to recall any bit of it, but the last thing he remembered with any clarity was Danny checking the radar. He had no recollection of the helicopter Danny had told him about, no memory of the face of the asshole who’d almost managed what no enemy force, or even Wo Fat, had been able to do.

He was grateful Danny hadn’t killed the asshole. Not that Steve really wanted him walking around, but he’d lived through the aftermath of Reyes, and he couldn’t watch Danny go through that again. Once was more than enough.

“Looking forward to being home?” Danny asked.

“You have no idea.”

Danny smiled. “Yeah, I have some idea,” he said ruefully. “I put fresh sheets on the downstairs bed. I’m not a big fan of stairs yet, and I’m guessing you’ll probably feel the same.”

Steve nodded, trying not to let his disappointment show. He’d been looking forward to sleeping with Danny in his own bed. A silly little thing, especially in the face of everything else they’d been through, but still. 

He’d be sleeping with Danny in his house. That would be enough. 

Assuming, of course, Danny would be staying. 

“So.” Steve stopped to clear his throat. “Do you have Grace and Charlie tomorrow?”

Danny shook his head. “Rachel has them the next three days,” he said, wincing a little as he took a right turn, turning the wheel gingerly. “So you’re stuck with me.” He ducked his head, glancing at Steve. “If you’ll have me.” 

“By all means,” Steve said, “stay as long as you like.” _Stay forever._ He couldn’t quite say it, not yet. Danny was smiling, though, so Steve settled back and closed his eyes, dozing on and off until the car stopped. 

“You awake over there?” Danny asked. 

“Yeah.” Steve opened his eyes, frowning at how tough it was to keep them open. It wasn’t like he’d exerted himself all that much. The door opened, and Danny helped him up, but Steve managed to walk to the front door more or less on his own power, mostly holding onto Danny just to have him close. 

But when Steve started towards the living room, Danny steered him towards the downstairs bedroom instead. “Danny, I don’t want to sleep.”

“Yeah, I don’t either,” Danny said, continuing on to the bedroom. “But I’ve been up for hours while you laid around and dozed, and I need a nap, whether I want one or not. And I’m just selfish enough to make you take one with me.”

And it was Steve’s fault Danny had been up, hanging around the hospital. “Okay,” Steve said. He let Danny lead him to the bed and even got into it without a fuss, kicking off his flip flops before he let Danny help him lie back to ease the strain on his healing abdomen. 

The bed felt amazing, so much more comfortable than the hospital one he’d been stuck in. He heard Danny rattling around, putting the bag of Steve’s stuff away, despite saying he was tired. 

“I think I’m tired after all,” Steve said, annoyed by that fact. “Are you sure you didn’t give me the lazy half of your liver?”

“Fuck you,” Danny said.

Steve smiled, even though the words made him want things he was still unable to have just yet. After a moment, though, the bed shifted as Danny climbed onto it and laid down, a warm, solid presence by Steve’s side. 

Steve wanted to snuggle into that warmth, but the healing muscles and tissue preferred him being on his back. Preferably with nothing more than a light blanket on top of them. He figured Danny was probably the same. 

So he reached out, grabbing Danny’s hand in his, feeling an answering squeeze in return. “So I guess this is your way of saying that your entire liver is lazy and now we both get to be sloths?”

“Shut up,” Danny said, before squeezing Steve’s hand again.

***

Danny didn’t know what he’d expected when he walked back into his office, but somehow he hadn’t expected it to look exactly the way it had when he’d left to go on that plane. His pen was still laying where he’d dropped it in the middle of his desk, and his chair was still pushed back. 

It seemed like it should be different somehow.

“Danny?” 

He turned to see Kono standing in the doorway. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were still on leave.”

“I am. Steve went to the doctor, so I thought I’d stop by to see how you guys are doing.” He’d spent the first hour moping around the house because Steve wouldn’t let him go along, but he wasn’t about to tell her that.

Chin came in to stand next to Kono. “You’re not supposed to be here.” 

“Steve’s at the doctor,” Danny said. “I just came to say hi.”

“In your office?” Chin asked, raising an eyebrow. “Alone?” 

Danny raised both hands in surrender. “Just visiting, I swear.” 

“Are you sure?” Kono asked. “Because there’s a lot of paperwork that could use some attention.”

“Sorry, medical leave forbids that,” Danny said, though he secretly itched to even get that close to his actual job again. He sat down in his chair and put his pen back in the desk drawer, feeling a little better about the office after that. “But you guys can catch me up.”

Chin and Kono sat down and told him about some of their recent cases he hadn’t heard about yet. They’d talked about them when visiting the hospital, but he suspected they’d been holding back on the funnier stories to keep him and Steve from laughing so hard. 

His abdomen ached when they’d finished the third story, but it was worth it. Chin had just started explaining how Kono had nailed—literally, with a nail gun—a suspect when Danny’s phone rang. 

Steve’s face smiled up at him, and Danny answered it quickly. “What’d the doc say?”

“That I’m free and clear to resume some of my normal activities.” 

“Oh.” Danny stood up, pushing his chair under the desk. “That’s, um, that’s good.” He frowned. “Unless you meant work.” Because he knew that should be months off.

Steve’s laugh sent a shiver through Danny. “No, I’m still inactive for a while,” Steve said. “But certain _other_ activities can be resumed, ‘in careful moderation.’” Steve cleared his throat. “And I’m halfway home.”

“Yeah, I’ll, uh, see you there.”

He hung up, giving Kono and Chin a quick look. “I gotta, uh, go do a…thing.”

Kono’s laughter confirmed his suspicion that he wasn’t exactly smooth. “A thing?” she said. “Should we tell Steve that’s what you call him now?”

“Yeah, sounds like the honeymoon’s over,” Chin added.

“Romance is definitely dead,” Kono supplied.

“I would lecture you both on inappropriate work behavior,” Danny said, heading for the door, “but I don’t have time. Bye!” he called out over his shoulder.

Their laughter echoed down the hall until he was too far to hear it.

***

Steve was unlocking the front door when he heard the Camaro pull up. By the time he was inside, Danny was on his way up the walk, so Steve left the door open as he dropped his keys by the door. 

The door closed as Steve turned around to find Danny standing right in front of him. “Hi,” Steve said, his hands in midair like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

Danny laughed as he reached for Steve, pulling him in gently as Steve’s head dipped instinctively in for a kiss. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t kissed since they’d been home, but they’d both been holding back, knowing they couldn’t actually do anything.

He remembered what it was like before, when they’d had sex, and Danny had kissed him like nothing else mattered. This was even better, as if Danny was pouring everything into the kiss, all the bottled up frustration of waiting adding to everything that had been said between them since. 

And yet Danny’s hands were gentle, even as he guided Steve to the downstairs bedroom. Steve thought about protesting—they could move upstairs now. But Steve didn’t want to wait long enough to climb the stairs—or risk them tiring him out. 

Once they reached the bed, they helped each other out of their clothes in between kisses, careful of scars and areas they knew might cause any pain, and stretched out on the bed on their sides, mouths meeting once more. 

But as much as Steve loved kissing Danny, he’d been saving up a lot of other things he wanted to do, and he wasn’t wasting any more time. He tried to push Danny onto his back, but Danny broke the kiss. 

“No,” he said, moving Steve carefully onto his back.

“Danny, I’m not going to break.”

“I didn’t say you were.” Danny slid one leg over both of Steve’s thighs to straddle them. “Maybe I’m worried you’ll break me, did you think of that?”

Could he still have concerns, even after all this? “Danny, I—“

“No, no, no, whatever you’re thinking stop it.” Danny’s smile was fond as he ran a hand down the side of Steve’s face. “That was what we in the normal human world call a joke, Steven.”

Steve laughed, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt away. “Right. I’ll try to remember that.”

“See that you do.” Danny’s hands were moving slower, skimming around the transplant scars until he let one finger land lightly on the end of one of the scars. He watched Steve’s face as that finger slid along the scar, more a ghost of a touch than a real one, sending only good shivers through Steve’s body. 

“You know,” Danny said thoughtfully, eyes dropping to the scars as he continued to trace. “I’ve heard of couples getting matching tattoos, but I think matching transplant scars is way cooler.”

“Well, till death do us part doesn’t even apply anymore,” Steve said, his fingers finding their way along Danny’s scars as well. “I’ll take part of you to the grave one day.” 

Somewhere in the time since the transplant he’d lost that instinctive fear of that thought. He was more scared of losing all they could be than of losing Danny himself. Of missing out on all this. He’d rather have him for as long as he was allowed and deal with the consequences, if they ever came. 

Danny’s eyes burned hotter than fire as he leaned down carefully, Steve supporting his weight a little, until their lips met in a kiss. Danny scooted carefully back, his lips working down Steve’s jaw to his neck. Steve hissed as he arched into Danny a little, more from pleasure than pain, but Danny sat up instantly, checking to make sure Steve wasn’t hurt. 

“I’m fine,” Steve said, giving Danny a smile. “I told you, I won’t break.” 

The smile he got in return was wicked. “We’ll see about that,” Danny said, lowering his head again. He kissed a spot just underneath the intersection of Steve’s scars, then moved downward, tongue dragging across Steve’s skin all the way down to the base of his cock.

Steve hissed again as Danny licked his way up the side of Steve’s cock, but this time Danny didn’t check for injury. He slipped his lips over the head of Steve’s cock, taking him in slowly, Danny’s eyes on Steve’s face the whole time, making the whole thing that much hotter.

Steve had been half hard from the second Danny had walked in the door, had been straining by the time they’d gotten out of their clothes. He wasn’t going to last long, but he made sure every second was committed to memory. 

Nothing about this time would be forgotten.

Steve thrust carefully into Danny’s mouth a little faster, careful not to move as fast as he wanted, more for fear of hurting Danny than himself. Fists clenched in the sheets, Steve tried to hold back, but he couldn’t. 

“Danny, I’m—“

Danny pulled off, hand replacing his mouth in time to work Steve through his orgasm. By the time Steve could open his eyes again, Danny was bringing himself off, coming on Steve’s thighs like he was marking his territory.

As if anyone ever had a chance of getting there again other than Danny.

Danny managed to drop down onto his side, his skin pressed to Steve’s side at several points along their body. His cock pressed against Steve’s hip was enough for Steve to want to get up for round two right then, but his body would have laughed at him, if it had been awake enough to do so.

Steve yawned, pulling Danny close. “I feel another nap coming on,” he said, eyes already slipping closed.

“Figures, I do all the work, and you sleep.”

The amusement that laced Danny’s voice made Steve’s lips curve up, despite his body’s orders to sleep. “Don’t worry,” Steve said, giving Danny’s ass a squeeze. “I have plans for when we wake up, and I promise to do all the work.”

Danny nudged his nose into Steve’s side. “I can’t wait.” 

\----------  
END

**Author's Note:**

> Want to know more about my writing? Visit <http://www.jamiemeadowswrites.com>.


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